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rm. B. Buoroao, phintbr, indukapous. 



High School N'o. 1, 1 

Growth of the School, 1 

High School No. 2, 3 

What This Year Means, 3 

Spenser, 4 

Travel as an Educator, 4 

Snatches of Verse, . 7 

Mr. Jones's Fervor, 7 

Editorials, 8-14 

Work of Pen and Ink Club, 15 

Metrical Translations from Vergil, 16 

ITature Club, 16 

Nature Journal, 17 

Among the Pansies, 18 

Cloudland, 19 

The Divine Art of Smiling, 19 

Life Lessons, as Taught by the Merchant of Venice, 20 

Hugh of Lincoln, 21 

The Vision of Sir Launfal, . . 22 

A Historical Glimpse, 24 

Memories of An Old Man, 26 

The Colonial Schoolmaster of the Olden Times, . . .... 28 

Preparation for Citizenship, 31 

From the Chemical Laboratory, 32 

Chaucer, 33 

The Debating Club, , 33 

Our Work in Biology, 34 

True Greatness, 34 

An Experiment in Physics, . . 35 

Signs of Spring, 36 

A Character Sketch, 36 

The Wesley Family's Outing, , 37 

The Senate, 40 

The Agassiz Association, 41 

To Be, or Not to Be? .42 

Our Heroes, . 42 

Multum in Parvo, . 42 

Art Department, . . . ' . . . . . . . . . 43 

Calendar for 1898-'94, 44-49 

Thoughts Suggested by the June Commencement, . . . . . 49 

List of Graduates, 1894, 51 

Class Songs, 52 

Athletics, 53-57 

The High School Annual. 

"let l!no\vIe6ge grow from more to more. 

Vol. I. No. 1. 


June, 1894. 



T WAS in the year 1853 that 
a high school was first or- 
ganized in Indianapolis. At 
that time, higher education 
was not so strongly advo- 
cated as it is to-day, and the 
movement was met with an- 
tagonism from all sides. 
Earnest and continuous must have been 

the labors of the few enthusiasts, who were 
compelled to struggle with many foes, and 
to encounter many dilRculties. 

jSTot until the year 1864, did the apparent 
drifting of the school cease, when, under 
the principalship of Mr. Wm. A. Bell, it 
was relaunched, this time prosperously to 
sail the sea of education. 

From time to time, the location of tlic 
school has been changed, each change 
bringing with it better advantages, both 
for teacher and pupil ; until, finally, in 


the year 1884, with the erection of the 
present High School, large, spacious and 
cheerful, the people of Indianapolis have 
come into possession of an edifice, which, 
though some day, it may crumble, in obedi- 
ence to the call of destroying Father Time, 
will stand forever, a living structure, in the 
deeds, and lives and hearts of the many al- 
ready, and yet to be, benefited and inspired 
under its roof. 

" Progress is the law of life." If disre- 
garded there is no real life. The Indianapo- 
lis High School lives ; it has lived for many 
years; it has progressed; it has grown 
with age; its spirit of progress is evidenced 
by facts. 

Not many years ago, the manual train- 
ing department was organized in the high 
school, offering to a large number of 
students, long wisbed-for opportunities. 
In the different branches of science, labor- 
atory work and personal investigation by 
the pupils, have replaced the older and 
less helpful methods of teaching these 
studies. The course in English and Eng- 
lish Literature has also undergone many 
changes, until to-day the methods are so 
simple, the teaching so skillful, and the 
work itself, so full of interest to every one, 
that the most gratifying results are being 

One of the surest signs of growth is the 
existence of an organizing spirit, a desire 
to unite for the purpose of mutual benefit 
and advancement. This spirit, this desire, 
has long been prevalent among the High 
School students. Nearly ten years ago the 
Senior Debating Club was organized, and 
ever since, it has been doing good, effective 
work. Since that time, scientific associa- 
tions, nature clubs, political organizations, 
athletic associations, and literary clubs 
have sprung up, entering upon useful 

careers, and will, no doubt, live and act, as 
long as the school itself. 

Latest of all, is the spirit of class-organ- 
ization. Heretofore, the classes have been 
in the habit of organizing themselves, but a 
short time before their graduation. At 
present, the appearance of many-col- 
ored ribbons, floating and fluttering about 
the school halls, denotes a change. The 
classes of '95, '96 and '97, as well as of 
'94, have already organized and are proudly 
and delightedly heralding their existence 
to the little world about them All are 
stimulated to noble endeavors, and ani- 
mated with a desire to unify and elevate 
their class. Such are the natural results 
of friendly rivalries and honest compari- 

The Indianapolis High School is rapidly 
evolving into a school-home. What is 
more homelike than the sweet music and 
entertaining readings with which pupil 
greets pupil in the several rooms, at the 
beginning of each day's work! Work? 
Yes, work it is, if happy, voluntary en- 
deavor can be called such. What is more 
homelike than the sociable socials, pleas- 
ing entertainments, and congenial recep- 
tions tendered the school by one or an- 
other of the classes ! 

What is more homelike than that which 
is most loved, next to home ! 

What is more homelike than the close 
relationship and strong feeling of harmony 
which exists between teacher and pupil ! 
They understand one another. They work 
together. The goodly ship which they are 
so carefully guiding is steering its course 
onward, onward, towards the glorious goal 
of progress, of knowledge, of broad hu- 

Herbert C. Kahn, '94. 



In 1884, a second High School was estab- 
lished, and located on Virginia avenue. Its 
growth has been steady; during the past 
year, the number enrolled being about three 

During the coming year, this school will 
be removed to an elegant new building on 
South Meridian street, and it will be incor- 
porated with the new JVTanual Training 
High School, which is to otter opportuni- 
ties for industrial training, equal to those 
aiibrded by any other city in our country. 


THE last year has been an important 
one in the world's history. It has been 
marked by a series of events which, doubt- 
less, will have a noticeable influence on the 

Our faith has been tried by many unprec- 
edented disasters, wrecks, panics, fires and 
earthquakes, commercial and civil, as well 
as physical. We delivered ourselves from 
the ravages of the cholera only by the ut- 
most sanitary precautions. But what we 
have gained in the knowledge and practice 
of hygiene, will not count for nothing. 

The progress of science is remarkable. 
Not only are practical inventions constantly 
being made, but the former ones are be- 
coming more perfect. While such men as 
Edison live, the advance of science will be 

The decision of the Bering Sea question 
last fall affords a strong evidence of the 
value of arbitration. The United States 
was very fortunate in having so able a rep- 
resentative as Blaine ; for her interests un- 
doubtedly would have suffered, had it not 

been for his keen foresight and cool judg- 

In England, the Home Rule Bill was the 
theme of many long and heated debates for 
several months, but it was resisted almost 
too unanimously by the Peers. However, 
it is a question of such a nature that, 
though it may be laid aside for a time, it 
will be brought up again sooner or later. 

Meanwhile, Germany has been wrestling 
with the Army Bill. Brazil has been en- 
gaged in civil war, and other South Central 
and South American States have had their 
annual internal uprisings. 

JSTor has the United States escaped. The 
dipgraceful Hawaian affair had better be 
lelt unmentioned, but it will not be for- 
gotten. The present adminstration has 
certainly failed in every particular, in ful- 
filling the promises made to a confiding 
people. The hesitation and delay of the 
Senate on several most important questions, 
the introduction of the Tariff Bill, with 
the unsettling of values, and uncertainty 
for the future, has caused much suffering 
and distress throughout the country. 

The Coxey Army is but the result of a 
growing discontent among the tramps and 
fanatics. It is a foolish, ridiculous move- 
ment, and will accomplish no good what- 

The crowning event of the past year was 
the World's Columbian Exposition at 
Chicago, the great influence of which will 
be felt the world over. A general interest 
was awakened, and capital was generously 
provided. The approval and cooperation 
of foreign powers were obtained in the be- 
ginning. The master minds of all nations 
were called into activity; and the efforts 
of the many, each working out his best 
thought in his especial department, brought 
to perfection a new wonder of the world, 
the " White City." 


The successful management of this great 
undertaking reflects much glory upon oar 
noble men and women The simple fact 
that there was a Board of Lady Managers 
shows that we are becoming broad and 
liberal, and able to recognize true worth 
anywhere. The Woman's Building alone 
stood as a proof of her ability in architec- 
ture and all the decorative arts, as well as 
in almost every other line of employment. 

It brought the history of America before 
us in so vivid a manner that it will never 
be forgotten. Columbus will certainly live 
forever in the minds of all who attended 
the Fair and saw the many memorials of 
his name and fame. This is especially true 
of the school children. Even those who 
were not able to go have embalmed and 
preserved him in essays, pen-sketches or 
sonnets. So that they could not forget him 
if they ever should so desire. 

One of the most important effects of the 
exhibit was the bringing together of the 
nations in the different congresses. The 
Congress of Religions was attended by rep- 
resentatives of all sects, and their enthusi- 
asm grew stronger as they realized that 
the one essential point in their different 
creeds was the same, a belief in an all-wise 
and loving Father. 

Much homage was paid to the old Liberty 
Bell on its journey to Chicago. At every 
station, it was received by the patriotic 
school children who had turned out and 
marched to greet it with songs and joyous 
shouts. But its home coming was quite a 
contrast to its former journey. People all 
over the land were shocked at the recent 
murder of Carter Harrison ; and as the old 
bell was placed side by side with the new 
one, preparatory to departure, both were 
draped in black in honor of his memory. 

As an educator, the World's Fair can 
not be equaled. We are amazed at the 

manifestation of the remarkable progress 
in all the arts and sciences, and gather 
hope and encouragement for the future. 
We begin to realize our capabilities and 
those of our neighbors and of our foreign 
sisters. We appreciate the fact that the 
world is moving forward, and we deter- 
mine to work with increasing zeal in the 
development of our resources. 

We should be grateful that we live in 
this glorious century. This year alone is 
worth fifty, a thousand years ago. Our 
minds are broader, our vision is keener, 
and our souls are purer. We are begin- 
ning to understand that the way to find 
God is to get near to man. 

Hattib M. Tutewiler, '9i. 


The day is not yet born, but night is dead ; 

The hills lie bosomed in the shadowy sky, 

Flower-perfumed breezes softly murmuring fly. 
It seems as though the very birds have fled. 
But lo ! — above yon mountain's snowy head, 

A rosy finger sweetly shoots on high. 

And the sweet wild birds chant their matin cry. 
As all the east flames into rosy red 

And gold, so divinest Spenser came, 
As the first dawn of day since Chaucer's morn, 

Sank down, clear-silvered with the light of fame, 
Ere England saw that splendid sun-lit noon. 

Which thou didst herald, O great prince of song 

In wild aerial music echoing long. 

G. A. F., '94. 


IN the eighteenth century, a trip on the 
continent was thought by the Eng- 
lish to be a necessary adjunct to the youth's 
education. Immediately after receiving 
his degree at the university, he was sent, 
under the care of a tutor, for a two, or 
perhaps three years' trip on the continent. 


during which all the more prominent 
places of interest were visited. The 
youth's ideas of the people and places, 
about which he had been studying, proba- 
bly vague and indefinite before, now 
assumed fixed shape. The contact with 
people of difierent nations, and acquaint- 
ance with manners and customs foreign to 
him, tended to develop his immature ideas 
and to round out and give contour to his 

He stood on some great battle-field while 
his tutor pointed out to him the clever 
manoeuver of some great general which 
had possibly decided the fate of a nation. 
He pondered over the inscriptions on the 
monuments of kings, once rulers of some 
great empire, but now forgotten by all ex- 
cept the student of history. 

In Greece, he beheld the ruins of wonder- 
ful Athens, and he stood upon the battle- 
field of Marathon, where for the first time 
in history, the Persians felt the sting of de- 
feat. Rome brought to him memories of 
what Rome once was, the sovereign of the 
world. Her long line of great men passed 
before his vision. He heard the eloquent 
Cicero once more addressing the spell- 
bound populace in the Forum. He saw 
the triumphal procession of the great 
Csesar again pass through the city streets, 
and heard the shouts of the populace as 
it moved along. 

Gliding along the grand canal of Venice, 
listening to the sweet strains of a gondo- 
lier's guitar, he felt the tranquillity of an 
Italian evening. Again he was stirred 
into a glow of excitement by the dazzling 
snow and never ceasing jingle of the 
drosky, in cold St. Petersburg. One day, 
he was delighted by the merry frolics of 
the quick-witted girls in the sunny vine- 
yards of France; another, he was trans- 
fixed by the mad rush of an avalanche as 

he stood among the Titanic Alps, which 
attract the eyes of all to Switzerland. He 
lived the life of a simple Dutch peasant, 
and he entered into the excitement of the 
night's mad rush of a gay Parisian. 

Such was the crowning point of the 
education of the youth in the eighteenth 
century. Bacon says : " Travel in the 
young is a part of education." By it, the 
youth of the last century learned to think 
more broadly, to judge more critically, and 
to live more charitably. Although we, 
today, do not consider travel a neces- 
sary adjunct to education, we recognize 
its beneficial results, and the people of the 
latter part of the nineteenth century are 
probably the greatest travelers the world 
has ever known. In England, it is natural 
that one should think of going to the 
continent, because England is so small and 
the continent so near. However, the craze 
of Americans to go to Europe as soon as 
possible, is unwarranted. To foreigners, 
these travelers often exhibit such a lack of 
knowledge of their own country, as not 
only to bring chagrin upon themselves, but 
to reflect discredit on the nation which 
they represent They should keep in mind 
the advice of Thomas Fuller: "Know 
most of the rooms of thy native country 
before going over the threshold thereof." 

Moreover, America offers to the sight- 
seer natural attractions which can not be 
surpassed even by Europe. Perhaps the 
most wonderful region in America is the 
Yellowstone jS[ational Park, a district 
having within its borders beautiful scenery, 
herds of animals now nearly extinct and 
rarely seen outside its borders, and the 
most active geysers in the Avorld. The 
romance of a six days' ride over the 
mountains in a stage coach through such 
scenery crowns the traveler's enjoyment. 

The park itself is situated in the north- 



west cornel' of the State of Wyoming, and 
comprises an area, sixty-five by fifty-five 
miles. In 1878, this region was set apart 
by Congress as a JSTational Park, and is 
under the control of the Secretary of the 
Interior. The nearest railroad station is 
Cinnabar, Mont., about eight miles north- 
west of the park. The tourist, arriving 
here about three o'clock in the afternoon, 
is met by the coach an-l conveyed to Mam- 
moth Hot Springs, the first stop inside 
the park. Here he is introduced to the 
wonders of the park by those truly mam- 
moth hot springs. 'Ihey lie in broad 
terraces, the sides of which have been 
formed into beautiful, fantastic shapes — 
not unlike the ice formations around a 
fountain — by the water bubbling over 
them in bygone centuries. 

Early the following morning, the tourist 
starts on his first day's journey to the 
lower geyser basin, forty-two miles away, 
stopping midway at ISTorris for lunch. It 
is an interesting ride — now along the level 
open plain, now through the dark forest, 
now climbing the steep side of a mountain, 
now along the narrow road, scarcely wide 
enough for the stage, with a perpendicular 
wall on one side, and a steep descent on 
the other, where the apparent unconcern 
of the driver, as he "swings his four" 
around the sharpest curves, without 
the least concern, frightens the timid 
ones, and makes them forget the 
wonderful tales which he is constantly 
telling. Their fear is probably increased 
upon fording some swift-running moun- 
tain stream, especially if it is early in the 
season, w4ien the streams are swelled by 
the mountain freshets. However, after a 
refreshing supper, they are ready to see 
the geyser play, and to watch from the 
back porch, the cook feed the bears, which 
come regularly to get their evening meal. 

The next day, after another ride of eight 
miles, the tourist sees the most wonderful 
geysers in the world. "Old Faithful," so 
named from the regularity of its spouting, 
is seen in action by every tourist. Stand- 
ing a little distance away, he sees a column 
of boiling water, from two to four feet in 
diameter, thrown, with terrible force, one 
hundred and fifty feet into the air. This 
continues tor more than five minutes, at 
the conclusion of which, the tourist starts 
from the reverie, into which he has fallen, 
and is convinced that he has not been 
dreaming, by the streams of hot water 
flowing away in every direction. 

During the following morning's twenty- 
mile ride to Long's, on Yellowstone lake, 
the tourist will, if he is lucky, see a herd 
of elk, or perhaps some bnlFaloes. 

This road is cut across the great Conti- 
nental Divide and is through a most wild 
and desolate region. After lunch, a boat 
carries the tourist across the Yellowstone 
lake, the largest body of water in the world 
at so high an altitude — eight thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. 

The next day, after a twenty-mile drive, 
the tourist arrives at the grand caiion ot 
the Yellowstone. Here, the Yellowstone 
river, after taking a leap of three hun- 
dred and sixty feet, flows through one of 
the most beautiful caiions in the world. 
Standing on well -named "Inspiration 
Point," the tourist sees before him the 
almost perpendicular walls of the canon, 
the sand and jutting rocks of which, com- 
prise nearly every color of the rainbow; 
the whole terminating in that majestic 
waterfall which makes this, nature's won- 
derland. The tourist seems enchanted, 
and, forgetful of himself, remains motion- 
less, with his eyes fixed upon this beauti- 
ful scene, until the harsh voice of the 
guard recalls him to himself. 


After leaving the Grand Canon, the 
tourist returns to the " Mammoth Hot 
Springs " and from there to Cinnabar, 
where the rumble of the railroad train 
breaks the spell of enchantment of the 
past few days. But the pleasant memories 
of these days will forever remain fixed in 
his mind, and he will ever afterward recall 
his visit to the Yellowstone National Park 
as one of the most pleasant as well as 
profitable epochs in his life. 

Frank R. Jelleff, '94. 


It seems as if two cups were put together, 
The one above, of priceless sapphire made. 
Inverted on the emerald one below, 
And pouring riches into its clear bowl, 
From one great central spot where 
God shines through. 

Sunshine and shadow below. 

And clouds driving over the sun. 

Glimpses of blue above in the sky. 
Gleams of gold on the snow. 

Radiance of light above, 

Gleams of light on the world below. 
Glory of God in the Heaven o'erhead. 

Glimpses on earth of His love. 


[A Drama in One Act.] 

Dramatis Personce: 

Mr. Byron Jones, A poet. 

Mr. Peter Hardhead, . A man of com- 
mon sense. 

Scene : A large common on a very cold 
moonlight night. 

(Mr. Jones is standing in the freezing 
atmosphere, gazing at the moon with a 
rapt expression of countenance.) 

Mr. Jones — beautiful moon, fair em- 
blem of June, how grand is thy sight on 
this cool, chilly night. My heart glows 
with fervor. 0, moon ! if I ever gain rank 

as a poet, dear moon, you shall know it. 
I'll bring you to fame and give you a name 
by writing a sonnet, with pictures upon it, 
to the beautiful moon, fair emblem of June. 

(Enter Mr. Peter Hardhead. He gives 
a start of surprise on seeing Mr. Jones and 
grasps him vigorously by the coat-collar.) 

Mr. Hardhead — Well, Byron Jones! 
Have you taken leave of your senses? 
What on earth are you doing out in the 
cold at this time of night? 

Mr. Jones, (rapturously) — I'm addressing, 
you see, an apostrophe to the beautiful 
moon, fair emblem of June. Observe, my 
dear Peter, I speak only in meter. Why 
friend, you have never felt poetic fervor, 
or else you would see, no apostrophe more 
fine and more grand could be found in the 

Mr. Hardhead — Well, if I can't feel 
poetic fervor, I ca7i feel the absence of 
fervor in the atmosphere, and since you 
seem to be so fond of figures of speech, I 
will give you one. Byron, if you don't 
come in the house at once, the frosty air to 
which you have been and now are exposed, 
will bring about a train of results, the out- 
come of which will be that you will have 
to bid adieu to the joys and pleasures of 
this present life. By this I mean that you 
will catch your death of cold. Euphem- 
ism, Byron, come on. 

(He grasps Mr. Jones by the arm and 
attempts to lead h;m away, but the poet 
resists, and exclaims regretfully) : 

Farewell lovely moon, bright emblem of 
June, I bid a good night to your pale, sil- 
ver light 0, moon — 

Mr. Hardhead, (impatiently) — Byron, 
you make me tired. Do stop your non- 
sense, and come in. 

(Mr. Jones retires into mournful silence.) 
[Exit ] 
Bessie McIntosh, '96. 


THE HIGH School Annual 

Published each June, in the inteests of the Indi- 
anapolis High School, by the members 
of the Senior Classes. 


-r, 1 .a, f Mary C. Ritper. t.,„„ hh J Hattie M.Tutewiler. 
teb., W,|herbertC.I<;ahx.-"^"<=' ■'■''1 Frank Jeixrff. 

' Knowledge is now no more a fountain sealed; 
Drink deep until the habits of the slave, 
The sins of emptiness, gossip and spite, 
And slander die. Better not be at all 
Than not be noble." 

The Senior class of the Indianapolis 
High School presents this issue of the 
Annual to the faculty and students of the 
High School, to the alumni, to similar 
institutions of the land, and to all patrons 
of education and progress, wherever they 
niay be. We have watched with pride, the 
decided improvement in our own institu- 
tion in the past few years, and rejoice in 
the progress of High Schools in general and 
the increased interest manifested by the 
people in educational matters. 

Such a publication as this is, of neces- 
sity, a school mirror. It reflects the inner 
life of the students, tlie strength and 
weaknesses of the institution and pupils, 
the evils that exist, and the respects in 
which it keeps pace with or strides in ad- 
vance of the time. 

Its object is to show the character of 
each year's work, to give, in some way, a 
history of the school, to instruct and 
amuse, and to express the sentiments of 
students and their hopes of reform. 

Though fully aware of the grand pros- 
pects for future growth which lie before it, 
we can not shut our eyes to the fact that 
a few defects still exist in our High School. 

No institution can be a success unless 
teacher and student are in sympathy with 
one another. The students must respect 

those in authority, for their ability, liberal 
culture and the high principles which they 
advocate. Teachers must govern with 
reason and candor, and suit the method of 
instruction to the disposition of the pupil. 

The majority of the High School teach- 
ers are strong, liberal, broad-minded, and 
fully abreast of the times. Outside of 
their particular line of instruction, they 
possess a knowledge and power to think, 
which make the class-room a source of 
delight, and inspire thought in the stu- 

With a contented, earnest-working body 
of students, appliances for scientific re- 
search adequate to satisfy the needs of 
such a body, able and enthusiastic teachers, 
and a sufiicient tinancial support to meet 
the demands of all departments, we can 
but be proud of our Alma Mater and 
her rank among the schools of our country. 

We commend the class spirit which has 
so increased in the last two years. It be- 
speaks the activity and wakefulness of the 
school, and creates a friendship among 
students which exerts a strong influence 
on their lives. 

The interest in athletics now apparent 
is also laudable. We hope that the eflTort 
to secure a good gymnasium will be suc- 

The spirit of reform, now astir, we 
believe will continue till our High School 
shall be second to none in the land. 

In the midst of such a brilliant outlook, 
Ave now present to 3'ou for the refreshment 
of weary hours, this flrst number of the 
High School Annual. 


That Lest portion of a good man's life, 
His little, nameless, unremembered acts, 
Of kindness and of love. 

— Wiirdmoorlh. 




WHAT are you going to do? What 
shall be your life-work ? These are 
the kind of questions put to High School 
graduates by the many, interested hoth in 
them and the school which they represent. 
The answers received are varied. There 
are no professions and but few vocations, 
to which the educated man does not find 
his way. And it should be so, for he is 
needed everywhere. 

Education is at a premium in every line 
of business. " The world follows a few 
thinkers." In a smaller degree, do the ed- 
ucated in the different departments of the 
mercantile world, act as leaders and think- 
ers, upholding its standard of honor. To- 
day, as never before, great minds are needed 
iu every kind of business. The time has 
come when intellect among merchants is in 
demand as it is among the professions. 

But, referring to a previous statement, 
the educated man is needed everywhere. 
His usefulness is, by no means, confined to 
business or profession. He exerts an influ- 
ence in every direction, and is as a reserve 
fund which can be freely drawn upon in 
time of an emergency. 

In matters of I'eligion, he has, time and 
again, by leaning to the side of justice and 
tolerance, outweighed the heavy scale of 
prejudice and fanaticism, and, to-day, when 
each man may believe what seems to him 
to be truth, the educated man has still a 
great work to perform. 

At present, the scholar is greatly needed 
in the political field and in works of charity. 
To-morrow, other problems may demand 
his attention. Assuredly, there is always 
something — art, science, literature, all these 
bear the names of the world's greatest 

The scholar can be nothing nobler than 
a citizen, as such, performing "justly, skill- 
fully and magnanimously, all the oflBces, 
botli private and public, of peace and 

There is a glorious outlook for High 
School graduates. Honest ambitions 
prompt a large proportion, yes, all of 
them, to continue their education, either 
in higher institutions or among them- 
selves. Can we not hope that some day, 
as educated men, they will answer to the 
call of duty? Surely there is an outlook 
of happiness for them, if nothing else. 
For none are happier than they who, in 
the performance of duty, help to make the 
world "happy, lovely and free." K. 

Pictures not only furnish adornment for 
a room and give it an air of refinement, but 
also afford pleasure and inspiration to the 

From a scientific point of view, a long 
stretch of blank wall is injurious to the 
eye. There must be something to break 
the monotony. ISTo doubt the very fact that 
our walls have been blank, has made the 
occulists of to-day the rich men that they 
are. . ., • 

The faces of some of our ablest writers, 
to which we look up, afford us great en- 

Even sketches of spirited animals would 
also be an advantage. The eyes of one of 
Landseer's dogs would exert a great intiu- 
ence even on the most prosaic pupil. 

A bust of a hero would be to us as the 
Great Stone Face was to little Ernest ; and 
a few statuettes could easily be obtained,the 
value of which would be inestimable. 

We have advanced considerably in this 
direction in the last few years. Some 
classes have been especially active in their 



efforts, and the excellent results are ap- 
parent. We commend this spirit among 
the pupils, and hope that those whose duty 
it is to furnish the rooms will consider 
the matter and do likewise. 

There is a period in life when the dignity 
of living dawns upon ns ; when the mind 
begins to turn in upon itself and real- 
ize its individuality ; when a certain sense 
of pleasure is felt in the power to think. 
This period is reached sometime during the 
four years in the High School. 

While in the kindergarten and the ward 
schools, most children are hut imitators. 
Studying is simply committing to memory. 
Association and combination are uncon- 
scions processes. But when the great, 
broad ideas, broad as the universe and hu- 
manity, and high as the eternal, burst upon 
the conception for the first time, we feel a 
sudden transition into a new existence. 
Then it is that the mind needs good nurs- 
ing, — then it is that the High School meets 
the need. 

Timothy Titcomb says that there are 
three periods in every girl's life, and this is 
doubtless true of a boy's as well; namely, 
the chaotic, the transitional, and the crys- 
talline. Tlie High School has the difficult 
task of guiding through the transitional 
period, for with most persons, the crys- 
talline period has begun by the time of 

Whether character is made for the man, 
as Robert Owen compelled all his adherents 
to declare, or whether it is made by him, 
our High School, with its conscientious and 
able corps of teachers, and the spirit of true 
manhood and womanhood, which dwells 
within its walls, supplies the requisites of 
either process. 

That a boy is a graduate of the Indian- 
apolis High School is a better recommenda- 
tion to the business men of the city than 
the fact that he is a college alumnus. 

We believe that the High School, mid- 
way between the ward schools and college, 
the chaotic and crystalline periods, is one ot 
the strong pillars of the nation and our 
government, because it has the power to 
determii^e, in a large measure, the charac- 
ter of the leaders of the people, and to in- 
still the principles of good citizenship and 
righteous living into minds and hearts that 
will influence communities. R. 


WITH the Juue Commencement, 1,403 
persons will have received the di- 
p'oma of the Indianapolis High School. 
The first class (1869) numbered five. Be- 
ginning with 1884, two classes have been 
graduated each year, the largest number, 
129, passing out of the school in 1893. A 
large number of these have become sucess- 
ful teachers in this city. Others have 
taken college courses, and wherever they 
have gone, they have reflected honor upon 
the Indianapolis High School. 

Law, medicine, and business life have 
each proved attractive ; but, so far as is 
known, only one alumnus has entered the 

In 1888, a High School Association was 
organized, consisting chiefly of High School 
graduates with their husbands or wives, 
and on the evening of June 15th, it will 
hold its seventh annual reunion. 

It is hoped that a liistory of the doings 
of our graduates may be prepared and 
and ready for publication in the Annual 
of 1895. K. 



The privilege of thinking should he en- 
joyed hy all. School teachers have not al- 
ways believed this. There was a time 
when the "Hear and Believe" theory was 
in vogue. 

Oftentimes, people unconsciously impede 
that which they mean to promote. Surely 
all teachers do this who check freedom of 
thought on the part of their pupils They 
suppress any originality that the student 
may possess ; they stunt his mind's growth. 
Yet they are trying to make of him a man 
for the nation. " The child is father to 
the man." He who dare not think for 
himself in youth can not do so when 
grown into manhood. 

Most educators have learned this, and 
consequently encourage in the student all 
that shows original thought. The teacher 
who wishes to influence and persuade can 
not succeed by using the anti-thinking 
method. On the contrary, he will sym- 
pathetically hear the views of all and 
judiciously accept those of few. In this 
way, is brought about that happy result^ 
when students are made to feel that the 
teacher is one among them, not one above 
them. K. 

Class spirit has recently manifested it- 
self among the classes of '95, '96 and '97, 
not only by their organization into classes, 
but by the selection of colors, which shall 
be identified with them. White was very 
appropriately selected as the permanent 
High School color, one other being chosen 
by each class as its special property. 

The colors selected are as follows : 

White and old rose, February, '95. 

White and orange, February, '96. 

White and green, June, '96. 

White and red, February, '97. 

"White and violet, June, '97. 

Each pupil is proud of his class, of his 

colors. He will strive to do all which shall 
make the ribbons worn by him most hon- 
ored, most loved He will take care that 
his every act reflect credit not only upon 
himself, but upon the class of which he is 
a part. The benefits to be obtained through 
all this are obvious. 

Money ! Money ! Money ! The great 
fault of the American nation, the fault of 
the age, lies in those magic words. The 
desire for wealth, merely for wealth's sake, 
is the serpent that is consuming' the life- 
blood of the nineteenth century. This de- 
sire for money extends even to the boys, 
and its influence is seen in the compar- 
ratively small number of boys who com- 
plete the course in our High Schools. 
Disregardful of their after life, they wish 
to leave school and go to work, thinking 
that the money they will earn will be the 
golden key that will unlock the door ot 
future happiness. In a few years, they see 
the folly of their course, and, throughout 
their after life, regret their youthful indis- 
cretion. But the lesson of one seems to 
have no effect upon those who follow. 
The boy of to-day asks, in the same im- 
pertinent way, what good Latin and Greek 
will do him in the business he intends to 
follow, as did the youth of years ago. 
The pleadings of his mother, the stern 
commands of his father, and the advice of 
friends, are alike disregarded. ISTothing 
can dissuade him from his purpose. But, 
in after years, regret is sure to come. With 
the examples of thousands of persons, with 
the argent advice of the world's greatest 
minds, and with the facilities for a good 
education oftered by the nineteenth cen- 
tury, let us hope that the boys of the com- 
ing generation will show to futurity what 
an age of highly educated men can ac- 
complish. J. 




The resolution recently introduced into 
Congress providing for a change in the 
English orthography in puhlic printing 
has evoked much discussion. This resolu- 
tion is, of course, only the beginning. 
The idea of the adherents of the movement 
is to have the changed method taught in 
the public schools and secure its perma- 
nency in the language. 

Such a change is, we think, not desirar 
able. Primarily, it is not practicable. The 
great majority of the older persons — those 
who have finished their school education — 
would not learn the changed method. The 
business men, especially, either could not 
or would not take the time to learn it. 
Therefore, it would not be acceJDted in the 
business world, at least not for many 
years. Thus we should have the rising 
generation learning the new method, and 
the present one practicing the old. There 
would come a time when the two systems 
would contliet with each other. The result 
would be tbat we should have neither our 
present system nor the new one, but a cor- 
rupt system, worse than the present one. 
Thus it can l)e seen that the proposed 
change is utterly impracticable. 

But if it were practicable, the coming 
generation would have a system of orthog- 
raphy foreign to the present one. Shakes- 
peare would be as difficult for them to read 
as Chaucer is to us. The result would be 
tbat the works of the writers in whom we 
to-day, find inspiration and enjoyment, 
would be very little read, and the English- 
speaking nation would be deprived of its 
greatest benefactors. The world may never 
know another iVIilton. It were better that 
Milton's works be read and appreciated 

than that we have the simplest and best sys- 
tem of orthography that could be devised. 
Although there may be many reasons 
why a change would be desirable, the at- 
tempt to make such a change would 
undoubtedly accomplish more harm than 
good. It will not be impertinent, perhaps, 
for us to say that we hope that our sena- 
tors and representatives in Congress will 
not hesitate long before they decide the 
fate of a resolution which, if passed, would 
probably work so great an amount of harm 
that it would take years to correct. J. 

IN looking over the list of graduates, we 
find the names of many who have 
completed the course in less than four 
years. This has long been discouraged by 
the teachers, and not without good cause. 

The course, arranged by persons able to 
judge of the capacity of the average pu- 
pil, requires the completion of three stud- 
ies each term. If sufficient time be given 
to these, with a reasonable amount of gen- 
eral reading, the student's time will be 
entirely occupied. By taking more studies, 
it is necessary for him to exert himself 
more than either his mind or body is able 
to bear. 

But even granting that a pupil may 
comfortably pursue four studies at the 
same time, is it not unwise for him to try 
to graduate before the close of four years? 
Only under unfavorable financial condi- 
tions should this effort be made. One's 
school days are short and fleeting. They 
should not be made shorter without ne- 

Let every pupil take as many subjects, 
each term, as his capacity will allow ; not 
for the blind purpose of finishing the 



course in less than four years, or of grad- 
uating with a dear friend, hut with the 
one end in view of gaining as much as 
possihle while he has the opportunity. 


"Lives of great men all remind us, 
We can make our lives sublime." 

Some one has truly said : " The measure 
of a nation's worth is the use she makes 
of her great men." The great men of a 
nation are great, not only because of the 
greatness of their own lives, but because 
of the effect their lives have on the lives 
of other men. There is an inestimable 
good to come from the study of great 
men — a good to be compared with that re- 
ceived from studying the Bible. One can 
not look into the inner life of a really great 
man, study his every progressive step, and 
watch the workings of his mind and soul, 
without feeling a desire, however slight it 
may be, to emulate that man's virtues. 

Many of our greatest men have attrib- 
uted to the study of Plutarch's lives, their 
first impulse toward noble endeavors. Per- 
haps we, too, by the study of lives just as 
great as those recounted by Plutarch, may 
be likewise impelled. 

The effects of studying heroic characters 
produced from the imaginative brain of an 
author, are good. Yet, they seem minor, 
when compared with the effiects of studying 
heroic characters, whom we know to have 
been real live men, compelled to fight ihe 
same obstacles, and to hew the same stumps 
that we find in our paths. From these, we 
receive inspiration and guidance. 

Every American should become thor- 
oughly acquainted with Washington, Low- 
ell, Franklin, Oarfield and others. From 
such men, we have all to receive, nothing 


to give. 


The " Hoosier School Master," which 
was presented in the hall a short time ago, 
has shown to all of us the value of amateur 
dramatics. To be able to act a character, 
one must utterly cast aside his own per- 
sonality and assume that of another. H" 
able to do this, he can better appreciate 
the works of authors, and find more enjoy- 
ment in life. The play above mentioned, 
together with the annual presentation of 
scenes from Shakespeare's plays hy the 
Senior class, has given the pupils who par- 
ticipated, an excellent opportunity to train 
their voices, to test their understanding of 
what they read, and to give outsiders a 
keener appreciation of the work presented 
We are pleased with this cultivation of 
true dramatic powers, not because the 
students may amuse an audience with 
facial contortions and wild gesticulating, 
but because it gives them a clearer under- 
standing of character and a knowledge ot 
humanity's peculiarities. But before dra- 
matic performances or any tiling on that 
order can be profitably presented, the ar- 
rangements of our hall need altering. All 
connected with the school can appreciate 
this criticism. We should have a perma- 
nent stage, a new piano, and better acoustic 
arrangements. R. 

Among the pleasant memories whicli 
the class of '94 will carry with them when 
they leave the school, will be the delight- 
ful morning exercises held in Mrs. Huf- 
ford's room. This class, as every one 
knows, has some talented musicians among 
its numbers. A majority of the members 
of the High School Orchestra, which has 
furnished such high grade music on sev- 
eral public occasions, and Miss Aufderheide, 
whose talent as a pianist is exceedingly 



fine, have helped to make the music nota- 
ble. The musical numbers on these morn- 
ing programmes were, therefore, excellent. 
Early in the fall, four pupils from each 
division of the Senior class, that is, from 
the February and Jane divisions, were 
elected ; each of whom prepared a pro- 
gramme for, and presided at a series of such 
exercises. Mrs. Huttbrd's informal talks 
on these occasions were both profitable and 
of interest, , R. 


The alumni meeting, to be held in the 
High School hall on June 15th, should be, 
and no doubt will be, largely attended. 
These annual meetings are always delight- 
ful. Old schoolmates, who are separated 
during the entii^e year, meet one another 
on that night. The times gone by are lived 
over again ; all the pleasant memories of 
school life being recalled. This year, some 
social features will be added to the even- 
ing's entertainment, which will make it es- 
pecially enjoyable. All graduates of the 
school are cordially invited to attend. 

"Li AST year a High School Chorus was 
J_^ organized, with Mr. George Benton 
as musical director. Good work was done 
at the weekly rehearsals, but owing to the 
scarcity of tenor, voices, the compositions 
studied had to be selected with great care. 
There was a large attendance, and the drill 
was productive of fine results. The double 
quartette, now also under instruction, is 
doing exceedingly well. 


Mrs. Hufibrd— "As Carlyle says." 

Mrs. Spragae — " What say you ? " 

Mr. Dotey— "Esthorribile!" 

Mr. Eoberts — " Please step to the map." 

Miss Platter — " Study your principles." 

Miss Dye — " You sweet child ! " 

Miss Rankin — " So to speak." ■ 

Miss Donnan — " Well, you know my 


Miss Edson — "Confine yourself to your 


(?7fK^KIg _'^^''^°^'^^°°''^'''^ <g(Lg g . 




Fbom Vergil's ^Eneid—Book I, Lines 124-141. 

Soon tlie great Neptune, the god of the wild waves, 
Saw that a storm was sent forth and the waters about 

him were troubled. 
P>en the cool and calm depths of the ocean were tossed 

far above him. 
Deeply incensed was this god, as his large, placid head 

he extended, 
.Seeing the tleet and the Trojans o'crpowered by the 

winds and the billows. 
Known were the wiles and the wrath of shrewd .luno to 

Neptune, her brother. 
Eurus and Zephyr he summons and chides for their uii- 

order'd actions: 
"Do you so trust in your race that yon terrify liotli 
, land and lieaven 
Raising up such mountain-waves witliout my author- 
ity granted ? 
"Now it is better for me to allay the unrest of these 

"Ye shall atone for your deeds by a [lunishment difTer- 

ent hereafter. 
"Hasten your flight and report all these words to the 

king of your empire. 
" Tell him to me has been given the trident and rule of 

this ocean. 
"He holds the rocks where ye dwell, then let .Eolm 

there show his power, 
" Ruling that prison enclosed of the wild winds." Thus 

spake the. god Neptune. 

Bertha Landis Walker, '9'). 

Book IV, Lines 173-188. 

At once speeds forth rumor, that horrid monster, 

And flies through the cities of Libya so great. 

This rumor, than whom no evil is swifter, 

Mightier than others, gains she strength bv her swift 

When young, she is timid through fear; but ere long 
She rises aloft; in the air spreads her pinions; 
Sets foot on the ground; hides her head the white clouds 

Her mother is Earth, who enraged at the deeds 
Of the gods did become ; and to Coeus, the Titan, 
A sister she is — this monster so baneful, 
So miglity, so swift of foot'and of wing. 
And every plume in her body an, eye, wakeful 

Always concealeth ; and as many in number 

As these are the babbling tongues she possesses. 

The wide-open ears she erects are in number 

Equal also to these. Through the darkness of night 

Rumor. 'Twixt heaven and earth rush Jier pinions; 
Her eyes in sweet slumber ne'er rest them, 
A watchman, she sits oft at day-break, 
Aloft, on a palace or cottage, and friglitens 
( Jreat cities who know her, since as closely she cherishes 
Falsehood, as does she whatever is truthful. 

Mary C. Ritter, ",')4. 


Of lxte yeai's, a vei'y proiiiinent positiuii 
has been given in our school eun-icuhini, 
to the writings of Whittier, Emerson, 
Bryant, Longfellow and Lowell, and they 
have filled many of ns with a deep love 
for Dame Nature. Some such feeling 
probably led to the founding of our Na- 
ture Club. Tliis association had tor its 
}»urpose, the study of the beauties of 
meadow and woodland around, and almost 
every Satur(hiy was spent in liappy wan- 
derings by "Green fields and running 
brooks," or 

"Through verdurous glooms and winding, mossy ways." 

Sometimes we went to the dim, mysteri- 
ous tangle of Crow's Nest; sometimes to 
the sacred swamps, Avhere the fringed 
gentian, more ho'y to us than any lotus of 
Egypt, showed its azure flowers. Then 
aerain, we went west, to the fernv banks of 
Big Eagle, or along the sands of our glo- 
rious White river, everywhere learning 
precious lessons from stream and sky, 
from tree and blossom, from bird and bee. 
Then, in the long dark winter evenings, we 
gathered about the warm fire, living over 
again the delights of summer in the pages 
of Burroughs, Thorean, Thompson, Cott- 
man, and other nature writers — nay, Mr. 



Burroughs and Mr. Cottman were even so robe of green, dotted here and there with 

kind as to write us pleasant, encouraging little wild flowers. The air is cool and 

letters. bracing, and the trees, ashamed of the lorn 

Such is a brief outline of the work of condition they have presented during the 

our club, and to any who may hereafter long winter siege, put forth their buds, 

form a merry company of woodland lovers, which are destined, at last, to burst and 

the old Nature Club would say, "God give place to the many colored, variously 

Speed." shaped leaves. 


[The foUowino- are fragments of Nature-studies and 
observations by pupils of tlie first year Englisli classes.] 

Springtime is here. All Nature has put 
on light, green dresses to welcome sum- 
mer. The trees have thousands of little 
buds, which make them look like large 
buildings with numberless little heads 
poked out of a window to see the proces- 
sion of life go by. 

Some of Nature's Garments for Earth. — 
How handy and thoughtful Nature is ! She 
is very economical and'saves herself much 
work in clothing earth by simply remodel- 
ing the same garment several times. This 
she does according to earth's needs. Two 
weeks ago, her black form was clad in a 
pure white, downy frock, which could be 
but poorly imitated by any mortal hand. 
It seemed it was an emblem of purity 
itself, and that, hid among those fleecy 
folds, were millions of diamonds, ready to 
beam forth at the touch of the fairy sun- 
beams. But, alas ! The dark earth could 
not keep this celestial raiment free from 
the stain of mortals long. Soon the earthly 
tint mingled with it and hid the diamonds 
from sight, just as a person's heart may be 
so filled with sin as to hide and push out 
all the precious gems contained therein. 

Now is the season of all the year when 
the earth casts off her garments of spark- 
ling ice and snow and assumes the brighter 

A clear, blue sky overhead, tender 
little blades of grass under foot, the slender 
branches outlined against the sky. What 
a picture this would make if one were 
an artist and could paint it in Nature's 
own colors ! 

The first signal of sunrise is given by 
the color of the clouds. Pink is the 
favorite color, although blue and silvery 
gray are often seen. Perhaps the pink is 
caused by the blushing of the clouds when 
kissed by the sun. 

The sky gradually changes in color from 
a dull grayish-blue to a beautiful combina- 
tion of pink flecks, dashes of red, and 
waves of silvery gray and salmon pink. 

The sun, after fifteen minutes of watch- 
ing, appears upon the horizon, like a 
golden eye watching our actions. 

The gray clouds may represent to us the 
old, gray-haired fathers of the rosy, blush- 
ing maidens. They form the sun's faithful 
attendants and bodyguard. The sun pays 
them for their services, with a golden 
kiss every morning. 

A sea of crimson color surrounds the 
golden sun as he sinks to rest; a beauti- 
ful panorama furnished by God for our 
pleasure and elevation. The flecks and 
dashes of gold and blue, together with the 
numerous sea-horses with crimson trap- 
pings, prevent a monotony. 




When on this earth smiles the sunshine, 

And caressingly comes the rain, 
Then, from the bare trees around us. 

Spring forth, ye l)right blossoms, again. 
So, welcome ! welcome ! wee blossoms, 

And welcome ! ye little green leaves; 
We have missed you, but now are happy. 

Since 3'e greet us f^^om all the trees. 

As THE spring is the beginning of the 
flower life, therefore we should be grate- 
ful for it, and also should learn a lesson 
from the flowers, that if we try to grow 
better and better each day, our lives will, 
at last, be as pure and as spotless as the 
beautiful flower, and, like the flower, we 
shall not die after one blossoming, but shall 
only be transplanted to the heavenly gar- 
den, there to blossom eternally. 

The sun and the rain bathed a bare, brown tree 
With their light and their welcome showers. 

Till after the buds had opened wide. 
The tree was clothed in tlowers. 


rr^HERE was quite a commotion in the 
X pansy-bed. Ruby Lip, a beauty in 
heliotrope and white, had laughed at a 
new-comer with an odd, strangely human 
little face. 

" Look at me," she said proudly. " Does 
any one dispute my supremacy ? See how 
this heliotrope shades off to red and again 
to white. The loveliest colors of the rain- 
bow are mine. Oh, I am beautiful ! " 

" Still," said Royal Purple, " still I am 
the one most spoken of. One knows that 
no pans3'-bed is complete without me and 
I am content." As she leaned over to 
catch a glimpse of herself in a tiny pool of 
water, Blue Eye spoke up. " I am very, 
very pretty," she soliloquized. " Every 
one admires me and my mistress gives my 
blossoms to her very best friends." 

" Since you all are praising yourselves, 
I may as well remark that I am always 

needed as the bright, flnishing touch to 
the most beautiful bouquet," put in Yellow 

Odier, the large-eyed newcomer would 
fain have said something, but Snow White 
exclaimed, " Oh, are you not done ? Dear 
Ruby Lip, how could you do it? And we 
v/ere having such a nice time!" But the 
quarrel was not over. 

"And pray. Miss Monkey-face, have you 
nothing to say for yourself? Who were 
your ancestors ? " asked Ruby Lip of Odier. 
"And who were yours ? " was the pert re- 


" Royal Purple and I are daughters ot 
the rainbow and children of Royalty," 
said Ruby Lip. 

" Yes, and Golden Heart was my mother 
and she was a daughter of the Sun," ex- 
claimed Yellow Gem. 

" The daughter," began Ruby Lip, scorn- 
fully, but Blue Eye softly murmured: 
" Laughing Wave and Blue Sky were my 

" Must I confess that I have none to speak 
of ?" said Odier. 

" Never Mind," said Snow Wliite, " My 
father, Liglit, loves all alike, as does the 
great God, our Maker. ' Tis true. Ruby 
Lip is beautiful, but Yellow Gem and 
Blue Eye, Royal Purple and Odier, all 
have their peculiar charms. Let us do 
justice to all — Ruby Lip, the most beauti 
ful ; Yellow Gem, the brightest; Blue Eye, 
the daintiest; Royal Purple, the richest, 
and Odier, the wisest." 

"And what are you, friend?" inquired 
Ruby Lip. 

" Why, I — I — I am — " stammered Snow 

" You are the best and dearest of us all," 

chorused the friends, and Odier added in a 

low voice, " Truly, how blessed are the 

peacemakers ! " . ^ ^ ^nn 

^ Addie C. Lecklider, 97. 




BENEATH the cool shade of a sturdy 
oak, one beautiful summer afternoon, 
I lay gazing far up into the limitless arc 
of space. As I gazed, the height of the 
great arching dome impressed itself upon 
me, and then height gave way befoi'e 
admiration of the wondrous color which 
no earthly dyes have ever been able to 
imitate. Fleecy white clouds sailed over 
the clear bine and I began to take note of 
shape as Avell as height, depth, and color. 
Past all finite calculations are the variety, 
the beauty and the grace of cloud shapes, 
even in an ordinary summer sky. 

I stayed until the sunset, and the pano- 
rama of glory that lay before me repaid 
the time spent. The white clouds gath- 
ered in the west and the setting sun illum- 
inated them with colors, the brilliancy of 
which are never seen anywhere but in 
nature. Grand castles, fairy palaces, and 
cathedrals of gold rose in many pinnacled 
splendor from the red sea of the sunset. 
Little crimson barks and barges sailed 
here and there on the sea of fire surround- 
ing the city of cathedrals, and castles and 
rays of sunset crossed the whole expanse. 
In the north and south, were purple 
shadows, and in the east a reflection of 
the whole glory. I turned my head for a 
moment, and when I looked again, my pal- 
aces and castles were gone, and the cathe- 
dral of gold had fallen. In place of them 
was a flaming sea of Are. The conflagra- 
tion of sunset, one of the grandest specta- 
cles of nature, faded, and there remained 
quieter, but no less beautiful cloud effects. 

What a feast of color there is spread for 
us in one single sunset, and as no two sun- 
sets are ever alike, what a gallery of pic- 
tures one year would serve to hang in our 
memory if we but took note of them all ! 

The sunset glories of cloudland are 

wonderful, but the glories of cloudland in 

a storm aftbrd even a wider scope for the 

study of the pictures of the artist, I^ature. 

Maria C. Keehn, '94. 


THERE is a great deal of unrecognized 
divinity in this world, but it seems 
very strange that the divinity of a smile 
has not made itself apparent to more of us. 

To state exactly why smiling may be 
called a " divine art," would be impossible. 
But suppose we stop a moment in con- 
sideration. Each of us can easily bring 
to mind some one of our friends, that is 
always ready with a pleasant smile of gen- 
tle sympathy for every one. Now, just 
imagine (however impossible it may seem) 
that all persons were endowed with this 
same rare faculty. How much sweeter, 
and happier, and purer this world would 

In the acquisition of his art, there is 
nothing really difficult. But this is an age 
of hurry and worry, and humanity is so 
deeply engrossed with its own attairs that 
it does not give much heed to such seem 
ingly insignificant things as smiles. The 
brow of mankind is furrowed by the care 
and strife of seeking wealth or fame; his 
lips are hard and compressed, and his eyes 
have a cold, determined expression in thena, 
or, perhaps, one of discontent and trouble. 
He has almost forgotten how to look glad 
or happy, and the divine fountain of smil- 
ing within his heart seems nearly dried up. 

Why do we not always smile whenever 
we meet the eye of a fellow-being? One 
writer has said that it is "the true recog- 
nition that ought to pass from soul to soul 



A smile is such a simple, easy thing for 
us to give, and yet we little realize, per- 
haps, how inexpressibly dear it may be to 
the one upon whom it is bestowed. Cost- 
ing the giver so little, yet these smiles 
bring a reward that is far above rubies — 
the love of many hearts. 

Little children in simple communities 
smile involuntarily, unconsciously. In 
Germany, the honest-hearted peasant pos- 
sesses this unatFected habit of smiling 
almost to perfection. Helen Hunt says : 
"It is like magical sunlight all through 
that simple land, the perpetual greeting on 
the right hand and on the left, between 
strangers as they pass each other, never 
without a smile." 

This, then, is " the divine art of smil- 
ing " — like all " fine art, true art, perfection 
of art, the simplest following of Nature." 
Emma C. Stradling, '93. 


TO me, the greatest and most impressive 
lesson taught by this play is the result 
which inevitably follows our decision in 
the great struggle between passion and 
reason, a struggle which occurs in every 
life. The result is invariably the same. 
When reason conquers, when our impulses, 
inclinations, passions are reduced to sub- 
jection, while we mould our lives accord- 
ing to the higher principles which reason 
dictates, then happiness, the just reward 
of duty, never fails to follow. Portia, 
ever mistress of her own desires, never 
failing in her duty, always strong and self- 
restrained, with a gentle dignity peculiarly 
her own, makes us realize more fully what 
may be expected when reason and the 
higher laws control our motives and our 

actions. Not less plainly do we see the 
opposite result in the case of Shylock. 
With avarice and revenge ever warring in 
his heart, at times his reason almost swept 
away by reason of his hatred for Antonio, 
his unhappy fate could not fail to overtake 
him. In Portia and Shylock, the struggle 
is most prominent, but it is universal. It 
occurs in every one's life. Our circum- 
stances and environment must, of neces- 
sity, determine its form, but although dif- 
ferently manifested, it occurs in all stations 
and conditions of life. Do we not see this 
same struggle in the case of Launcelot and 
Jessica ? 

We can not read that passage in which 
Sliylock so eloquently pleads for his race, 
or that in Avhich he tells of the insults and 
disgraces he has endured, without a strong 
feeling of indignation at the wrongs which 
race prejudice inflicts. His suft'ering was 
common to all his race at that time, and 
serves to show us what is the result of a 
narrow and unjust prejudice of that kind. 
The introduction of the Prince of Morocco 
into the play shows us another phase of 
prejudice equally narrow and unjust, but 
probably not so evil in its consequences. 

The falseness of much that is sup- 
posed to be true is brought out in numer- 
ous places. It is the predominating 
thought in each of the scrolls. 

"The world is still deceived with ornament." 

Is our world of to-day less deceived than 
that of Shakespeare? To me it seems that 
here we have made but little progress. 
We must ever be alert to detect the true 
from the false, to discriminate, and to look 
below the surface of a mere outward 
appearance if we would know the truth 
as such. 

As we study Shylock's character, we 
realize how we may become so engrossed 



with some strong passion that, swayed by 
its influence, our intellect is dulled and all 
our thoughts turned into one channel. His 
failure to detect the flaw in his bond, of 
which Portia took advantage, is an evi- 
dence that the finest and keenest intellect 
may be blunted by an absorbing passion. 

" If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is 
his humility? Revenge. If a Christian 
wrong a Jew, what should his suflTerance 
be by Christian example ? Why, revenge." 
Such practices on the part of those who 
profess to be Christians do more harm to 
the cause of Christianity than can be 
easily estimated. It should teach us to 
realize more fully what it means to profess 
Christianity, and what untold harm we do 
to its cause by proving unworthy of its 

Antonio's devotion to Bassanio is one of 
the greatest beauties of the play, and yet 
do we not here find conclusive evidence 
that such a friendship can not be wholly 
right? Beautiful and noble as is the self- 
sacrifice and devotion of Antonio, we can 
but feel the wrong of sucli complete sur- 
render to one absorbing passion. Such a 
love, while beautiful in itself, must, of 
necessity, dwarf the growth of our higher 
development and limit the range of our 

In the contemplation of his near death, 
Antonio becomes a difterent man. His 
nature softens and we see his mental de- 
velopment in his greater breadth of view. 
Such is the eff'ect of the experience of a 
great crisis. All things then appear in a 
broader, truer light, and we see more fully 
the insignificance of our own petty views 
and prejudices. 

Shakespeare reflects human nature in all 
its i-elations. He is familiar with the mo- 
tives, the springs of human action. In 
the " Merchant of Venice," as in all of his 

other dramas, he shows us that in just the 
proportion that our motives, our inner con- 
sciousness, and our actions resulting there- 
from, are in harmony with the moral law, 
in just that proportion shall we secure 
happiness. Each of his plays impresses 
us more fully with the force of that great 
truth, " That which a man sows, that shall 
he also reap." 

Kate P. Smith, '95. 


[One of the most delightful of the tales told by 
Chaucer's Canterbur)' jjilgrims is the Prioress's story of 
Hugh of Lincoln. The following is an attempt to 
modernize the tale and yet to retain some of the sweet, 
pathetic, mystical beauty of the original.] 

He sped adown the village street. 

Singing a blessed, holy song, 
Past straw- thatched house and garden sweet, 

With lilies in a throng. 

And swift he sped through .Jewry there, 
Where tall, o'er-arching houses hung, 

And where no gardens Idossomed fair, 
Or breezes perfumes flung. 

With light of angels on his face. 

He "Alma Kedenn)toris " sang, 
An<l echoing through that glooni}^ place. 

His clear voice loudly rang. 

The .Jewish traders, dark and stern, 
With anger heard that sainted song; 

It made their fiery hearts fast burn 
With rage restrained long. 

"Utter no more that impious sound. 

Or thou shalt die the death," one said ; 
The fierce foes gathered all around, 
But he no answer made. 

His blue eyes shone with gleaming tears, 
His white hands clung together fast. 

And still he stood as one who hears 
A longed-for voice at last. 

He gazed one moment up to heaven, 
Then lifted high his childish face. 

And all the crowd by wonde riven 
Swayed back a little space 



He sang, and through the misty air 

His sweet voice scaled the lieaveiily wall, 

And Mary, motlier mild, heard there 
Tliis infant on her call. 

'(), Alma Redemptoris" rose 

Up through the yielding a/.ure air; 
The Jews in anger round him close, 
With keen knives flashing bare. 

They cast him in a hollow dark, 

'Mid grass and bramble-hriers wild. 

And high in heaven the lilting lark 
Sang of the blessed child. 

With tears his mother searched the town. 
Then sought the forest dusk and dun, 

And, midst a brake of tangled brown. 
She heard her angel son 

" O Alma Eedemptoris " sing. 

They took him up with tend'rest care. 
And wild birds round him in a ring 

With music filled the air. 

They bore him through the little town. 

Past straw-thatched house and garden sweet, 

To where the stately church stood brown 
Above the moss-grown street. 

And ever from his lips there rose 
The "Alma Redemptoris " sweet, 

As when the west wind whispering blows 
In the mid-summer heat. 

It tied through vault and choir and nave. 
And 'gainst the fretted roof it swept 

And round the columns wave on wave ; 
The carved angels wept. 

As in the night, a wild swan sings. 

High in the air, his dying song. 
Pouring out molten notes, and llings 

To earth the eclioes long. 

So sang the wondrous child, and filled 
The great cathedral with the sound, 

Till all the dragon-gargoyles spilled 
The music on the ground. 

Then soft the abbot spake to him : 
"O holy child, most blissful one, 

Though now thy eyes with death are dim. 
Though life is almost done, 

"Tell me, how can'st thou sing that song, 
That ' Alma Redemptoris' clear?" 

And then the sweet child answered long, 
Nor ever showed fear : 

" My neck is cut unto the bone, 

But as I lay in forest wild. 
All 'round me softly splendor shone, 

As though the angels smiled. 

"And Mary, mother mild, stood there 
And laid her hand upon my head, 

And ]iraised me for that I did dare 
My mortal l)lood to shed. 

"She laid a grain upon mj' tongue 
And bade me ever sing that song. 

That blessed anthem that I sung 
When the .Jews did me wrong. 

"She said that she would come for me 
When the grain came from off my tongue, 

And this she promised by the tree 
On which my Savior hung." 

He ceas'ed, and all the church was still 
As in the peaceful midnight hours, 

And all without, the murmuring rill 
Danced on amid the flowers. 

The priest stooped low and took the grain. 
The sweet child softly, "Mother," cried; 

And Mary mild his soul had ta'en 
Unto the mansions wide. 

George Archer Ferguson, '94. 


rr\HETvE are, and have been, men to 
_!_ whom America can never cease being 
gratefnh Such was Mr. Lowell, a refined, 
cultured and broad-minded man, who has 
kept his countrymen in touch with the in- 
tellectual life of the Old World. While 
American energy and ability have, for the 
most part, been expended in the various 
branches of trade, commerce, manufactures, 
finance and above all, politics ; while all of 
these have ottered alluring careers to men 
of ambition — literature has been at a dis- 
count. Although our country has never 
lacked in generals, statesmen and patriots, 
there have been but few writers worthy of 
the name. Yet there have always been 
some men wljose resplendent literary genius 



must, at one time or another, have secnred 
them recognition among their fellowmen. 
So, with Bryant as a precursor, we have had 
historians, novelists, poets and all kinds of 
literary men. James Russell Lowell was 
one of the most versatile of that illustrious 
company, and in the " Vision of Sir Laun- 
fal," we have a notable exception to the 
previously mentioned state of American 
literature. This poem was produced in 
1848, and 'tis said, that during the forty- 
eight hours in which it Avas written, the 
author seldom paused, even to partake of 

From the manner in which the prelude 
to the prelude is written, I thiidc it was 
originated after the entire poem had been 
conceived. As Mr. Lowell had an abund- 
ant reserve of apposite illustration upon 
which to draw, it would not seem difficult 
for such an aY)t and beautiful simile between 
himself and the musician he mentions to 
present itself to his ever active mind. 

In the prelude, he shows us that we daily 
lose opportunities of coming nearer Heaven 
without ever thinking we have had the 
opportunity ; not only in our infancy do we 
do this, but in the prime of life, and in old 
age. He continues in this strain, dwelling 
at length upon the manner in which we 
waste that which is best in us, for the 
follies of this earth, and then turn to 
Heaven for consolation, and try to develop 
spiritually, the ruins of our lives. Then 
comes a stanza, which none but a poet could 
originate. Mr. Lowell's fastidiousness as 
to language being the vehicle of thought, 
amounts almost to a mania, and in this 
stanza he gives his "mania" full scope. 
It abounds in descriptions and illustrations 
drawn from everyday life, but couched in 
such beautiful language that the fire of his 
poetry burns into the heart of the most 

practical and prosaic. This prelude, in a 
manner, raises the curtain which conceals 
from our gaze the panorama of Sir Laun- 
fal's early future. 

Then begins the poem proper. We do 
not in history, read of Sir Launfal as one of 
the knights who went in quest of the Holy 
Grail, yet Mr. Lowell chose this character 
to show that it is not a privileged few who 
may live eternally, but that the lists are 
open to all who will conform to the laws 
which govern our spiritual lives. The 
poem ushers in Sir Launfal in the act of 
giving an order for his accoutrements 
preparatory to his search over orient and 
Occident for the Holy Grail. Then he falls 
into a deep slumber, and the vision which 
"flew into his soul " unveiled the drama of 
his future, 'twas the harbinger which pre- 
vented him from wasting his life in useless 

Sir Launfal starts on his journey, young 
buoyant and happy, with Nature in a cor- 
responding vein. But as he passes through 
the gate, he notices a leper crouching 
in the road, and in the twinkling of an 
eye, his soul has undergone a change. The 
happiness flees therefrom leaving him a 
prey to all those sensations which a 
"dainty nature" feels on beholding a re- 
pulsive ol»ject. Sir Launfal throws a golden 
coin to the mendicant, but the leper raises 
it not. His reply is characteristic of a 
Christian He rebukes the donor and im- 
plies that Sir Launfal will never see the 
Holy Grail until he has first seen the 
beacon-lights of Christianity. 

The prelude to the second part is partly 
an exquisite description of a brook's freez- 
ing — a commonplace occurrence — yet the 
description can not be adequately rewrit- 
ten in prose. The picture of Sir Laun- 
fal's dreary prospects for the future is al- 



most as realistic. This prelude likens the 
winter in Nature to the winter in Sir Laun- 
fal's heart and life. 

Part two resumes the thread of the 
narrative with Sir Launfal heing turned 
from his " own hard gate " wherein a 
stranger was seated. Sir Launfal again 
meets the leper, hut this time as Christian 
meets Christian. He divides his last 
mouldy crust, and brings water in his cup, 
and behold the metamorpliosis ! Where, 
but an instant before, had stood a repulsive 
leper, perhaps the most repulsive specimen 
of humanity to be found, now appears to 
Sir Launfars gaze a man "tall, and fair, 
and straiglit," and in the wooden cup, he 
beholds the wondrous Holy Grail. Then 
he awoke from his dream ; he had become 
a follower of Christ, and henceforth his 
castle gates were open to all who chose to 

Throughout the whole story, there is pre- 
sented to us an idea of democracy besieg. 
ing monarchy, represented respectively by 
sunshine and the dark old castle ; especially 
at the conclusion, is this brought out prom- 

The poem resembles a mosaic work of 
Mr. Lowell's phases of character. There 
is the student of government presenting 
our American principles; the moralist ex- 
pounding the doctrine of Christianity; the 
student of words clothing his thoughts in 
a choice rapt expression ; the student of 
human nature; the poet communing with 
Nature. Yet all these are so delicately in- 
terwoven and so skillfully joined that, if 
our character-mosaic were a real study in 
marble, it would do credit to the finest 
Venetian workman. 

Edmund Schiffling, '96. 


A MAN never realizes how deceitful ap- 
pearances are until they are against him. 

Scene : The home of Glaucus, a Grecian 
gentleman. The banquet hall, in which are 
Glaucus and his friends, Diomed and Al- 
cestes, reclining on purple couches, around 
a table laden with viands and wreathed in 

Diomed, looking around to his host, 
Glaucus : 

" Glaucus, thy tapestry is lovely as that 
of kings. Where didst thou obtain that of 
Ganj'mede and the eagle yonder? One 
almost sees the regal boy panting in the 
chase and Jove's armor-bearer swift upon 

G. " Yes, friend Diomed, I value tiiat 
beyond all my tapestries. 'Tis true to life 
and shows upon its face the hand of the 
skillful artist. When one is at ease at the 
banrpTct, then is the time to look with 
pleasure upon these works of art." 

A. " This wine gives to my mind almost 
as great a pleasure as thy tapestry ; for the 
warmth and glow of soul that wine can 
give can hardly be surpassed by works of 

G. " Thy soul is dull and does not feel 
the lofty thoughts thy tapestry inspires. 
The all-powerful Jove, though not seen, 
yet suggested ; the strong and swift mes- 
senger, obedient and intelligent ; the noble, 
helpless, yielding boy — do not these give to 
thy soul a new inspiration? " 

A. " Enough, good Glaucus, thy logic 
reaches the heart. Art and eloquence must 
have the victory over such dull souls as 

D. " Friend Alcestes, thou givest thy- 
self but a poor name. Did I not see thee 
yesterday swayed and absorbed by the 
charming old play we beheld at the thea- 
ter ? " 

A. " True, and what was the name o 



the play and the author ? That were some- 
thing to uplift one. To keep the tale 
needed application. Everything that de- 
ceived, concealed, shifted, eluded, was 
symholized hy clouds. Verily, old Aris- 
tophanes, 'Clouds' is worth listening to." 

D. " It is ever new — it will continue to 
charm when we are dust." 

A. " I have heard it said that another 
play from the dead hero of yesterday is to 
be rendered at the theater of Dionj^sus to- 
morrow, ' The Wasps,' and equal, they say, 
to 'The Clouds,' in every particular. It is 
noised abroad that the chorus of this is to 
be the most splendid seen in oar beloved 
city for years. The Choragus is not dis- 
closed, but is known to be one of our 
wealthy men, who can well afford it. Me- 
thinks, friend Glaucus, I would not be far 
amiss if I should venture to say that thou 
wouldst be the one to raise the most mag- 
nificent choragic monument in the city, 
even rivaling that of Lysicrates." 

G. " Not so, my friend, not so. Me- 
thinks it ill befits me to measure choruses 
with Lysicrates, even if I could atford it. 
But if I am not mistaken, I heard whispers 
that, to morrow, passages from our noted 
poets — Aeschylus and Sophocles, and may- 
hap Euripides — are to he delivered in the 

A. " Diomed, what of the Olympian 
games? Thou hast seen them and we 
have not. What of the chariot race?" 

D. " It was a great chariot race. 'Tis 
strange with what unfailing interest we 
all hang upon the result. The excitement 
was tremendous for awhile." 

G. " Tell us of the competitors." 

D. "I knew only one, Sarpedon, from 
Thebes, said to be descended from Jupi- 
ter, who claimed to be endowed with 
the power of prophecy. By that, he was 

able to say who would be victor in the 
game. That honor he attributed to him- 
self, and sent word back to Thebes before- 
hand to be in readiness for his reception. 
The day before the race, I saw his glorious 
Thracian horses. Their grooms handled 
them with a care beyond what women 
take in their toilets. Their beautiful skins, 
their flowing manes and tails, their spark- 
ling eyes, were a delight to the eyes. I 
thought any one would have a hard task 
to outstrip those noble steeds. Their necks 
were wreathed with flowers, and the metal 
on the chariot was burnished to rival the 
sun. The gaping crowd applauded as the 
slaves led them round." 

G. " I heard it said that there were 
many women present." 

A. " I do not approve of women's pres- 
ence at these exciting scenes. The most 
valued among women is she least heard 
and spoken of, and seldom seen in public 

D. " 'Tis true, for women have no voice 
in public matters, and 'tis better for them 
to stay at home. Did not Helen set all the 
world agog, and was she not the instigator 
of more sufi'ering and bloodshed than anj' 
other known person ? " 

A. " Surely she was a woman lacking 
in modesty and most womanly virtues. A 
woman's place is out of sight. To the 
men belong the affairs of the world and 
the mastery at home and in public." 

G. " The power of reasoning and the 
gift of conversation belong to men. I look 
with admiration and respect upon those 
men whose business in life is to talk — to 
whom the highest pleasure is to hear and 
to tell some new thing. What pleasure 
their minds must be to them ! " 

A. " Well, those of us who are not so 
much burdened with that article get a deal 



of satisfaction out of dice and the public 
games, which I must needs think were 
made for the venturous throng." 

G. " Well, let us pour out our libation 
to the gods and then betake us to the 
market-place to hear what latest has been 
said, and what of Paulus, whom we heard 
lately with his strange doctrines." 

A. and D. " Agreed ! He was a taking 
speaker, and we would gladly hear him 

G. " I thought when I saw him on 
Mars' Hill, that around him shone a strange 
radiance, a brightness that was very re- 
markable ; and his words had such a per- 
suasive power that I was half tempted to 
believe. But let us go; perhaps we might 
hear him again." 

Flora M. Ketcham. '95. 



TT is night. The moon, motionless over 
X the dark fringe of the deep forest, 
sheds an uncertain light. On the banks of 
the river, almost lost behind the dark iir- 
trees, are clustered together the cottages of 
the little village, bathed in that darkness 
common to nights of spring, when under 
the misty moon, vapors arise, blending 
together the lengthened shadows of the 
forest, and enveloping the fields and glades 
in semi- transparency. 

All is peaceful, and in the gloom, the 
village sleeps. The dilapidated cottages 
cast their shadows in a dark mass, studded 
here and there with flickering lights. 
Presently some pedestrians, then somebody 
on horseback, passes by, or a vehicle rolls 
heavily along with a creaking axle. These 

are the peasants from the forest ham'ets, 
hastening to church on this Easter eve. 

The old belfry, lofty and gloomy, raising 
its spire straight toward Heaven, stands 
on a little elevation almost in the center of 
the village. The bright radiance of wax 
tapers is seen through the many windows. 
Heavy footsteps resound on the winding 
stairs that lead to the platform of tlie 
spire. It is the old bell ringer going up, 
and his lantern appears aloft like a pale 
star. The ascent is laborious ; the old man 
easily loses his breath as he climbs the 
well-worn stairs. His feet are no longer 
the same, active, willing ones of his youth, 
and his sight is growing dim. Poor old 
man ; he is so worn out ! Ah ! it is time, 
high time, he thinks, to leave for the land 
of rest; but God does not wish it; He does 
not send death. The years are becoming 
heavy, yet God wills that he ring the 
chimes again on this evening. 

The old man draws near the balustrade, 
leans on his elbow, and becomes absorbed 
in thought. Below, all around the church, 
he sees the village graveyard, fall of worm- 
eaten, wooden crosses, which, with out- 
stretched arms, seem to guard the dead. 
The clumps of birch trees, still stripped of 
their leaves, bend over the graves, and 
exhalations ascend toward the bellringer, 
who has now fallen into that sad restful- 
ness preceding the eternal sleep. 

Where will he be a year from now ? In 
this same place, under the same bells to 
awaken with a resonant peal the sleeping 
night ? or will he be stretched below in one 
of the lonely corners of the grave-yard ? 
God alone knows. As for him, he is ready ; 
death maj^ come ! And with his eyes lost 
in the skies, where twinkle millions of 
stars, the bell-ringer sighs gently. He is 
awakened by a tremulous, quavering voice 
from below, asking him if it is not time to 



ring the chimes, and the old man, gazing at 
the stars which I'esemhled a thousand fires 
in the blue, said that it was not. 

He had no need of a timepiece for the 
stars told him when it was time. The 
heaven and earth, the white cloud brushing 
the blue, the deep forest that he hears rustle 
almost constantly, and even the little river 
that glides in the shadows, all speak to him 
in a language he understands, for there is 
a bond between him and nature. All his 
life has not been spent in the old belfry in 
vain. Now, the distant past rises up before 
him, and he calls to memory the day when, 
for the first time, he stepped upon the same 
platform with his father. He sees himself 
again, a small boy with a bright, happy 
face, his golden hair blowing in the wind. 
But it seems to him that this wind is not 
the same which raised a blinding dust in 
the road. No, it is a breath from heaven 
which only skims the summits. There it is 
again — his childish vision. Men that look 
like dwarfs pass along far from the belfry ; 
the cottages look dwindled, while the glades 
around grow very large. 

"Yes, it is there before me just the same," 
he murmurs, with a smile, as he covers the 
spa(;e before him with one glance. In 
truth, all his life is there. There have been 
hard roads to travel, but through the whole 
journey he has not lost courage once. Now 
he has reached the goal ; may Mother Earth 
not be long in giving him his long-sought 
rest ! 

Now it is time to ring the chimes, and 
easting one farewell glance at the stars, the 
bell-ringer rises, takes off his hat and gath- 
ers the ropes into his hands. A moment 
later, and the bells begin swaying to and 
fro. First there is one stroke, then an- 
other and another, and the strokes, repeated. 

follow each other in succession. It is a 
ringing peal of deep, sonorous tones whose 
prolonged vibrations fill the night. 

Then the bells are silent. Usually when 
services began, the bell-man would go down 
from the spire and kneel before the door to 
hear the chants and pray with the faithful. 
But now he does not leave the belfry. He 
sits on his bench, his ears ringing with the 
dying vibration of the bells, and wanders 
oft" in thought. 

As the old man dreams, his head sinks 
upon his breast ; they are singing psalms ; 
he sees himself again in the church, the 
vision of the present, lost in that of the 
past. Here is the stern countenance of his 
father, and his eldest brother, prostrate at 
his side ; he, himself, is there, full of energy 
and life, with a vague hope of happiness. 
But where is that happiness ? And his 
thought, like the last flame of a dying fire, 
suddenly lights up the innermost recesses 
of his past life; exhausting labor, then 
sorrow and poverty. Yes, where is that 
happiness ? Hard destiny has wrinkled his 
young face, bent his powerful form and 
taught his lips to murmur complaint; still 
the vision keeps unfolding. 

Now he sees a rich and powerful man — 
his enemy — kneeling in prayer, and the 
old man's heart grows bitter and he mur- 
murs, " May Heaven be our Judge." Then 
becoming stirred in his sleep by a voice 
calling him, he rises quickly to his feet, 
rubs his eyes, gazes around in a dazed way, 
and sees by the stars that he must ring 
the chimes once more to sound the glad 
Easter tidings. Below, the crowd of peas- 
ants are stirring like a swarm of ants, the 
banners are waving sparkling with their 
golden broidery; it is the procession going 
into the church and the joyous cries rise 



as far as the bell-ringer — " Christ is risen ! " 
The acclamation re-echoes violently in the 
heart of the old man. 

Never had the bell-man rung the bells 
as he does now. One might say his whole 
soul had passed into the bronze. The 
quivering bells, throwing toward heaven 
their peals, now laugh, now weep, and 
the variations fall toward earth in long 
caresses of love. 

The choir now swells the anthem, " Christ 
is risen ! then the bass alone predominates in 
his deep, powerful voice, "Christ is risen ! " 
tlien the clearer notes of the tenors repeat 
joyously the strain; and lastly, the so- 
pranos, like the voices of children in a con- 
cert of male voices, hasten, crowding to- 
gether their shrill notes, vying with one 
another, repeat the strain. The wind that 
beats upon the face of the old bell-ringer 
repeats after the voices and bells, " Chi'ist 
is risen ! " 

Then the bellman forgets his life, full of 
bitterness and wrongs ; he also forgets that 
he is alone in the world, like an old tree 
uprooted by a tempest. He listens to the 
bell singing and weeping, and he thinks he 
is surrounded by his children and grand- 
children. The happy voices of the grown 
ones and the tender voices of the little 
ones form a concert, and sing to him about 
the J03S and happiness of life he has never 

Suddenly the large bell hesitates in an 
uncertain position and becomes silent; the 
small ones send forth indistinct trills, then 
brusquely stop, as if to listen to the dying 
wail that trembles in the air. The old man 
sinks down upon his bench, and two tears 
— the last — course slowly down his cheeks, 
now grown white as wax. The morning 
sun, rising over the belfry, sends its soft, 
gentle rays upon the man who has gone so 
quietly. Bessie White, '97. H. S. No. 2. 


Upon the sunny slope of a New England 
hill, surrounded by deep-toned forests, near 
to the meeting-house, but hidden from it 
by a bend in the narrow road, stood the 
school house of "the good old times.'' 
Rude though they may seem to eyes accus- 
tomed to the imposing buildings of to-day, 
no Roman was prouder of his city on the 
seven hills than was the early New Eng- 
lander of his temples of worship and 
learning in the wilderness. Those who 
have built miniature log cabins of their 
mother's clothes pins, or during their stay 
at some quaint old farm house, have visited 
their host's corn crib, or the large pig-sty 
" back in the woods," have a fair concep- 
tion of the " school'us " of two hundred 
years ago. 

Within it, upon hard, backless benches, 
seven or eiglit boys sat droning over their 
dry text-books. At one end, was the 
traditional fire-place, while, upon the wall 
opposite, hung a bundle of switches, as a 
warning to any mischievously disposed 
urchin. But all these minor details sink 
into insignificance at sight of one who, by 
a glance, was able to make the hearts 
beneath the linsey wolseys of his pupils 
beat fast with fear. And where, in all 
history, can be found a more formidable, 
and at the same time, a more picturesque 
personage than the school-master of the 
colonial period as he sat at his rough- 
hewn desk? The poAvdered cue, the long- 
tailed coat and knee-breeches, the striped 
stockings and buckled shoes, seem so much 
a part of him that it Avould be hard to 
imagine him in any other garb. 

Whatever his faults, whatever his short 
comings as an instructor of youth may 
have been, he certainly did not add to 



them a belief in the " divine art of smiling," 
for never was he guilty of that pleasant 
look which expresses, more than words, 
the appreciation of the teacher at the suc- 
cess of his pupil, or that sweetly sad one 
for his undeserved failure. His duty was 
to lead his pupils into the realms of read- 
ing, writing and arithmetic, and like a 
cruel driver, he sought to accomplish this 
by means of a long, cruel " gad." 

By instinct, he knew which tree yielded 
the rod which caused the greatest pain 
with the least permanent injury. In the 
knowledge of this, and this only, may the 
old-time school-master be said to surpass 
the teacher of to-day, unless he be given 
the credit of that most true and wise say- 
ing which is somewhat to this effect: The 
birch tree produces one of the necessaries 
of life, for in its smaller branches has been 
implanted a most miraculous virtue for 
communicating all knowledge. 

This long departed and almost forgotten 
tutor was also a mechanic in a small way, 
for from the goose quills of his patrons he 
manufactured the pens which were the 
cause of all those pains so often felt in the 
knuckles of the writer. When the sun had 
sunk low in the west, when the shadows, 
like mice, crept forth from their corners, 
when the forests and hills had sent back the 
last painful echoes to the still smarting 
urchin, the school-master donned his three- 
cornered hat, secured his birches and quills 
against any thief who might happen along 
that way, and set out on his homeward 
journey. Through brambles and briars he 
crept, through forests infested Avith snakes 
and wild animals, and along the narrow 
foot path he traveled, until he arrived at 
his destination. No sceptred monarch 
could receive greater respect than was paid 
to the district school-master by the good 
farmer and his family. Again and again 

he was urged to the best which the table 
afforded, until by the arrangement of his 
knife and fork, by the disposition of his 
spoon, or by some other well understood 
signal, he intimated his desire to be helped 
to no more. 

When the evening meal was finished, the 
dignified master was not unfrequently 
called upon to hold yarn for the industrious 
Puritan maiden, or to escort her to spinning 
matches or quiltings. And when not in 
the employ of the sisters, he might be seen 
helping the boys with the following day's 
lessons. Certainly, if variety is the spice 
of life, his must have been all spice. For 
did not almost each week find him an in- 
mate of a different house, and the escort of 
a creature more or less fair than the one 
whom he had seen " safe hum " the week 
before, in spite of hobgoblins, witches and 
headless horsemen? Wherever he went, 
he was the respected of all respected, the 
admired of all admirers. With which- 
ever patron he stopped, whether for a long 
or short time, according to the number of 
boys in the family attending his school, he 
was received like a guest from some higher 
region. The best food stored away for 
special occasions was brought forth from 
dark corners, the great feather pillows were 
aired, the nine or ninety block quilt once 
more saw light of day, and the easiest chair 
placed in the warmest corner assumed its 
most inviting look, in readiness for its 
stately occupant. 

When the snow melted from hill and 
vale and delicate' trailing arbutus clung 
tenderly to mother earth, the master of the 
powdered cue disappeared, and when again 
the shrieking winds played through the 
leafless forest and entered the large cracks 
of the school house, in his place sat the 
ambitious student earning his miserable 
pittance toward a little learning and much 



flogging at Harvard. He, too, soon de- 
parted, and up the road shambled the 
lanky farmer boy who came carrying all 
his worldly goods tied in his pocket hand- 
kerchief, to rule o'er this little kingdom. 
And though in outward appearance he 
contrasted strangely with his two prede- 
cessors, his method of instruction was the 
same, " lickin' and larnin'," iind " 'tis better 
to spoil several rods than to spare the child." 

About the time that the latter class be- 
came numerous in the east, the great west 
began to import that most highly intellect- 
ual being, the school-master. But, alas for 
him, who emigrated from New England in 
the hope of making a fortune at school- 
teaching in the " Wild West." If he had 
gone into the jungles of Africa, there 
could be no greater contrast than there 
was between his life in the east and the 
one which he led in the west. 

The early settlers of the middle States 
had no respect for the instructor of their 
children. School-master was to them an 
empty title implying only a worthless fellow 
too lazy to earn a livelihood in any more en- 
ergetic manner, nor did they consider that 
his services in this line fully repaid them for 
his " board and keep " and the small salary 
which he received. His leisure hours, un- 
like those of his eastern brother, were not 
spent in pleasant duties but in doing chores 
about the farm, and instead of being waited 
upon and looked up to, it was necessary in 
order to possess any degree of popularity 
whatever, for him to play the flattering 
conrtier. Indeed his food was too often ill 
cooked, his bed a miserable straw one in 
tbe "furdest" corner of the garret. 

Nor was the appearance of this school- 
master such as to command respect. His 
scowling face was crowned with locks of 
tawny hair which, from its manner of stand- 
ing out, might have been cut with a saw. 

His dress generally consisted of a blue 
cambric shirt, showy plaid trousers held 
high above the shoe tops by means of gor- 
geous suspenders, and a pair of cowhide 
shoes several sizes too large for even his 
large feet. He did not think that a " little 
learning is a dangerous thing," but was an 
illiterate person whose chief pride was his 
" spellin " and whose chief delight the 
" spellin match." 

The school house itself, though similar 
in structure to that of early New England, 
was nothing more than a small arena in 
which daily pitched battles were fought 
between the teacher and "big boy," with 
the remaining pupils drawn up as a reserve 
guard in case the big boy should need as- 
sistance. It certainly took more of that 
courage called pluck to teach school in the 
" good old times " than it does to-day, for 
if the master was not successful in making 
friends with the big boy, which was sel- 
dom, or in " lickin' him," which was more 
seldom, he was " driv out" before the first 
term had expired. The young John L. 
Sullivans of the west were not only per- 
mitted, but encouraged in any abuse of the 
school-master. Inside the school room he 
was kept in constant dread of some trick ; 
when out of it he never knew when he 
might again return on account of the 
" lock-out." He was even ducked in the 
nearest pond by unseen hands; his loco- 
motion homeward was sometimes varied by 
a ride on a rail, and in many other ways, 
he was the receiver of pleasant surprises. 
Thus was his life made a torment to him 
and before he had taught many days in 
the "deestrict" school of the west, he 
knew the full value of his only require- 
ment, in the language of old Jack Means, 
" Ef yer think yer kin trust yer hide in this 
deestrick school-house I hain't no 'bjection. 
But if yer git licked, don't come on us." 



The exact date when the school-master 
departed is not kuown ; but at the same 
that he went out, the "school marm" came 
into existence, and ever since has held her 

Men may make the laws, which, whether 
or no, she must obey, till the important 
positions and talk of woman's sphere as 
something utterly inferior, but it is the 
" school marm," nine times out of ten, who 
disciplines his mind in boyhood, places be- 
fore him the noble standard " excelsior," 
and almost entirely fits him for his future 
life. Nor in doing this, does she follow the 
method of the New England school-mas- 
ter, that of cowardly subjection, nor the 
mistaken one of the early western teacher 
by attempting to crush out the animal 
spirit by animal spirit; but by treating 
those in her charge as reasonable creatures 
and awakening and developing in them 
that which in the drudgery of every-day 
life gives them communion with angels. 
Woman, your name may be frailty, but how 
much the success or failure of future gen- 
erations depend upon you is unfathomable, 
especially if you happen to be a " school 
marm " of to-day. 

Mabel S. Davy, '94. 


WONESTY, industry, intelligence and 
patriotism are safe-guards to every 
form of government; especially is this 
true of a government like our own, which 
is of the people, by the people and for the 
people. Had these principles been im- 
planted in the minds of all children in 
America, the Coxey army, made up of 
men distinguished chiefly for their igno- 
rance and indolence, could never have been 

organized or encouraged. If these essen- 
tial (pialities of character can be instilled 
into the minds and hearts of the rising 
generation, the permanency of this gov- 
ernment will be assured. We are to be 
congratulated that the powers that be are 
wisely building for the future, and one of 
the most promising efforts in this direction 
is the introduction of the study of civil 
government into the public schools. 

The aim of this course is not so much 
to implant an extensive and exhaustive 
knowledge of the subject, as it is to set 
the pupils to thinking along the line of good 
citizenship. In order to accomplish this 
object, it is thought that they should be 
very familiar with the Constitution of the 
United States, and accordingly the great 
archetype of republican government is 
memorized by the pupils, and explained by 
the teachers. Afterwards, the Constitu- 
tion of Indiana is read in the class and com- 
pared with the Constitution of the United 

The critical period through which the 
United States passed, owing to the defects 
in the Articles of Confederation, is made 
familiar to the pupils through Mr. Fiske's 
well-known book. 

By an examination and comparison of 
Franklin's Plan of Union, the Declaration 
of Independence, the Articles of Confed- 
eration, and the Ordinance of 1787, a 
knowledge of the relative value of these 
early governmental papers is accpiired. 

But a person must not only have knowl- 
edge of the nature and formation of the 
government of his country, he must also 
have feeling in regard to its preservation. 
Feeling and the control of feeling are 
cultivated through debate. One recitation 
each week is taken up in debating on (pies- 
tions relating to education, taxation, sufl- 
rage, the blessings of liberty, etc. 



The duty of the citizen at elections is 
taught by holding elections according to 
the Australian system, in the school-room. 
The method of procedure in the ordinary 
court trial is brought vividly before the 
pupil by having him participate in a trial 
in a moot-court. A familiarity with par- 
liamentary law is acquired in the High 
School Senate, in which body each mem- 
ber adopts the name of some United States 
Senator, and, to the extent of his ability, 
represents the attitude of that Senator in 
public questions. 

The Civil Government Department has a 
library consisting of about two hundred 
choice books. Some of these books are 
used for reference, while others are made 
the subject of voluntary review by pupils. 



AIAHE greater part of the spare time this 
X school year, in the chemical labor- 
atory, has been spent in the analysis and 
study of aluminum rocks ; not to find a less 
expensive method of separating aluminum 
from its combinations, but with a view of 
establishing the origin of some clay soils, 
if possible. 

Most rocks, at least most silicious ones, 
contain aluminum. Some contain as high 
as eighty per cent, of available aluminum, 
others as low as fractions of one per cent. 
The outside appearances are no indication 
of the internal structure. Aluminum 
rocks are very deceptive in appearance. 
The presence of a small per cent, of iron is 
enough to mask them. 

The pure aluminum silicate, such as we 
found in southwest Missouri on a recent 
trip in connection with the study of this 
subject, is a clear white, very fine-grained 

rock, not changing in color on exposure 
to the air. It is found immediately above 
a hard, blue flint, and lying upon, or dis- 
seminated through it. Such sections of the 
ground as could be seen on descending 
mining shafts, did not develop true veins 
of this rock, but more of a pocket condi- 
tion. The rock taken from one of these 
pockets showed considerable difference in 
structure, and especially in hardness. Some 
specimens were so hard as to give sparks 
when struck with a hammer; others, so 
friable as to crumble easily under pressure 
of the fingers. Ou analysis of these two 
varieties, the composition remained about 
the same. In some cases, the harder con- 
tained more silicon dioxide or sand and 
less aluminum; but in most cases the 
per cent, of composition was reversed, 
the softer varieties containing less alumi- 
num than the harder, and more silicon and 
other earthy substances. 

The reason for this difierence in hard- 
ness seems to be this: the potassium and 
sodium aluminum silicates, and a few 
others, are slightly soluble in water. They 
are made more soluble by the presence of 
considerable carbon dioxide. This region 
being a limestone one, we find every- 
thing necessary for this change or the 
washing away of the rock, and, conse- 
quently, the softening of the white flint. 
This theory is partly substantiated by the 
finding of some flowing springs on the side 
of a cut, just above the blue flint, which 
are ejecting a white, jelly like substance. 
On analysis, this proved to be a pure alum- 
inum hydrated oxide. This substance 
would be the natural outcome of such a 
theory, for the reason that carbonates or 
carbon dioxide would precipitate alum- 
inum hydroxide from solutions; the alum- 
inum hydroxide, changing on exposure to 
the higher hydroxides. 



Pure aluminum rock or soils have a 
large place in the commercial world. They 
would have a larger place were there ways 
of separating metallic aluminum at a less 
expense. Clays are used in all kinds of 
pottery. The quantity of iron and sand 
classifies them. White aluminum rocks or 
kaolins are used principally now in the 
manufacture of alum, and in considerable 
quantities in making white tiles and por- 
celain. The quantity of iron, silicon and 
the alkalies, separate these into classes. 
The ones containing some alkalies can be 
used for porcelain, for they melt and fill 
up the pores, consequently giving the 
glaze. The aluminum .rocks used in the 
manufacture of pure aluminum are the 
fluorides principally. 

A. Hugh Beyan. 


He was the earliest song-bird of that brood 

Whose music echoes yet throughout the earth. 
His song was of the meadow, field and wood ; 

Clear-spirited and strong his notes burst forth. 
Life, with its everchanging forms, he sung 

In camp, in court, in mart, in crowded street. 
Now, his majestic voice with spirit rung. 

Then low his varied voice became, and sweet. 
The herald of our English verse and tongue, 

He sounded loud the trumpet's fierce alarms. 
Then taking gentle lute, he softly sung 

In various cadence, nature's peaceful charms. 
Courtier and scholar, poet, wit and sage, 

In one, as all, the jjattern of his age, 

— Wilbur C. Abbott '86. 


"Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator." 

— Shakespeare. 

ii ri VIE club will please come to order." 

X This command, issued by both male 

and female voices, in various keys and with 


different accents, has been heard at a few 
minutes before twelve o'clock, every Friday 
morning, for about ten years, in the club 
room. The order proceeds from the dig- 
nified President of the Senior Debating 
Club, the hope of joining which society is the 
source of inspiration to Freshies, Sophs 
and Juniors, and the goal toward which 
all efix)rts strain 

During the somewhat broken silence 
which follows this mandate of the Presi- 
dent, the roll-call, minutes, and parlia- 
mentary questions are endured with pa- 
tience, with the soothing help of sweet- 
cakes. A program, usually of credit and 
interest, then follows, introduced by an 
oration from some statesman, and a brief 
sketch of his life. 

The debate is ably led by four orators, 
and a general discussion follows. But, oh, 
the critic's report ! How the breasts of 
those who have had the floor heave, and 
how their eyes grow dim as the critic rises 
from her seat. If the criticism be favor- 
able, a sense of unequaled importance fills 
the soul of the member, and he feels it a 
pleasure to live; but his less fortunate 
neighbor — well, he freely partakes of the 
sweetmeats tendered him by sympathizing 
friends, and resolves to show what he can 
do the next time he is down for a debate. 

Though Mrs. Huft'ord, the critic, leaves 
nothing untouched in her report, her po- 
sition and enthusiastic aid have made the 
socity what it is. 

It has been the custom to give a public 
debate at the end of the school year, with 
prominent citizens as judges. These per- 
formances have always reflected credit on 
the competitors and the club. 

The members of the class of '94, who 
have been presidents of the club during 
the past year, are Helen Loeper, Mary Rit- 
ter, and Clarence Stanley. 





foot - prints 
of the Great 
Creator." It 
was thus 
that Agassiz 
spoke of his 

The object 
of studying 
biology is 
frequen tly 
m i s u n d e r - 
stood. The 
conception many have of the work is 
very crude. They think that the analysis 
and naming of fiowers, or the dissection 
of a few animals is the sole purpose. In- 
stead of this, the primary aim is to culti- 
vate the powers of observation. 

The majority go through life blind- 
folded, and so see nothing about them. 
The true spirit of investigation is pos- 
sessed by few, and to lead the many to ask 
the why's and wherefore's of the common 
things so long unnoticed, is part of the 

There are no dull text-books to study, 
and one is not required to take second- 
hand knowledge. He can come in direct 
contact with nature herself. 

Hard questions are presented here as 
elsewhere, for the work deals with the 
most intangible of all things, the greatest 
of mysteries — life. Then the question is 
constantly before one, why has this leaf 
this particular form — of what advantage 
is it to the great economy of nature? For 
nothing is wasted, nothing is hap-hazard, 
but all things are arranged on a definite 
plan and are subject to law. 

" To observe, to sketch, to express," is 
what one learns to do. Mere seeing is not 
enough; drawing the object increases ac- 
curate observation, and finally telling clearly 
and definitely what is seen, drawing infer- 
ences and making conclusions complete the 

Individual work is necessary. Each must 
see for himself, conquer his own difficulties, 
and so become stronger for each new task. 

The microscope reveals wonders of which 
one has never dreamed, and as the line of 
evolution is followed from the single cell 
to the plant in all its glory of root, stem, 
leaf and flower, some small part of nature's 
wonders is appreciated. 

The training gained from this kind of 
work enables one to deal with any subject 
on a scientific principle One can analyze 
a subject, see its parts, their relation to 
each other, and the causes which produce 
the whole. 

The result of scientific work is a trained 
mind, power to work rapidly and well, to 
see, to think, to investigate, and above all, 
power to gain knowledge independently — 
a power that will be useful not only in the 
school room, but in all of life. 


'Tis NOT the splendor of the place, 
The gilded couch, the purse, the mace, 
Nor all the pompous train of state, 
With crowds that at your levee wait, 
That make you happy, make you great. 
But while mankind you strive to bless. 
With all the talents you possess ; 
While the chief pleasure you receive 
Arises from the joy yon give ; 
This wins the heart and conquers spite, 
And makes the heavy burden light, 
For Pleasure, rightly understood, 
Is only labor to be good. 

— Author unknounx. 






"E GIVE below a single illustration from our 
list of inductive experiments arranged espe- 
cially for the 9A grade. The reference letters 
are added to the original text to aid readers in under, 
standing the drawings. The apparatus is set up, the 
drawings made, the entire experiment performed, and 
observations and conclusions recorded by each pupil. 
The following is taken from the note book of Stella 
Levings, a member of the present class : 

27. a. Place the small wheel {A) used in 
Ex. 20 a^ upon the bracket {B). 
Tie tlie two 100- gram weights ( CD) 
to the ends of a small cord (_£") and 
hang them across the wheel Place 
the bracket hie:h enongh so that 
when one weight rests upon the 
table, the other will hang just 
below the wheel. IMace a 5-gram 
weight {F) upon tlie upper 100- 
gram weight and notice its rate of 
descent. (?) 
h. Suspend a pendulum {H) 12 inches 
long from another bracket Ar- 
range the weights as in A^ keeping 
them in place by holding the wheel 
with one hand. With the other 
hand draw the pendulum aside. Ee- 
leaseboth at the same instant, and, 
as the pendulum returns to the 
hand, stop the weights by again 
taking hold of the wheel. Find 
how far the weights have moved 
by measuring from the table. Try 
several times, and take the average 
of your results. 

c. Ai-range as before, and see how far 

the weights will move while the 
pendulum makes two excursions. 

d. Try the same for three excursions. 

e. In the last experiment, how far did the 

weights move during the second 
and third excursions respectively ? 

f. From the above, compute the dis- 

tance the weights would move 
during four excursions — during 
the fourth excursion. Try to 
formulate a rule for the distance 
moved in any number of equal 
intervals of time ; for any one of 
9, series of such intervals. 



Ex. 27. 

a. The 105 gram weight increases its 
speed as it nears the table. 
h. 4-in. 

12-in.— ■:0 in. 
64-in.— 28-in. 
Square the number of excursions and 
multiply by the distance the weight moves 
in one excursion. 

The distance moved in any one of a series 
of such intervals would be the odd number 
corresponding to the interval multiplied by 
the distance moved in the first interval. 
E. g. If it were the fourth interval the 
distance would be 28-in. or 7 (the fourth 
odd number) times 4-in. (the distance moved 
in the tirst interval). 

Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow ; 

lie who would search for pearls must dive below. 

— Dryden. 

All real and wholesome enjoyments 
possible to a man have been just as possi- 
ble to him since he was made of the earth 
as they are now, and they are possible to 
him cltiefl}' in peace. — Riiskin, 




April ! Let me see! 

Is this tlie time the poets sing 
Of bird and flower and tree, 

And all of Nature's promises 
Of things that are to be ? 

You may go to the woods 

To find that spring has come, 
But I can find yon tokens sure, 

A great deal nearer home. 

Though spring may whisper soft 

To Nature when she comes, 
Methinks another feels hei' breath 

When he is doing sums. 

For brick though High School walls may be. 

And plastered all so fine, 
The summer air it will come in, 

And drown a fellow's mind. 

And if to sleep he doesn't go, 

He soon will wish he had, 
For something — what, he doesn't know — 

Compels him to be bad. 

Then to the office he must go, 
There to explain what isn't so, 

And make things seem cpiite fair. 
But dear ! why don't that teacher know 

It's something in the air? 

It seems to me if I were she. 

And loved the flowers so, 
I would forgive a little fun, 

Because, you see, I'd know 
The same spring joy 
That gladdens girl and boy, 

Makes the flowers grow. 


rr\HE hero or heroine of a book need 
X not necessarily be the only character 
in it worth studying. Shakespeare proves 
this in many of his plays by endowing a 
minor part with such individuality, that as 
much time and thought may be profitably 
spent upon it as on a more important part. 
Such a character is Mrs. Ruggles, in a 

charming little story of childish love and 
generosity, by Kate Douglas Wiggin, en- 
titled, "The Birds' Christmas Carol." 

Her life may be divided into three periods, 
all of which had more or less infiuence 
upon her character; before and after she 
became Mrs. Ruggles, and after the Bird 
family and hers became interested in each 

It is impressed upon the reader almost 
as soon as he makes the acquaintance of 
Mrs. Ruggles, that she was a McGrill, which 
circumstance seems sufficient ground for 
her holding herself a trifie above her neigh- 
bors of the little back street. Why, "she 
has some reason to be proud," for, as she 
informs the children, " your uncle is on the 
po-lice force o' New York city; you can 
take up the newspaper 'most any day an' 
see his name printed right out, James 
McGrill, and I can't have my childern 
fetched up common, like some folks." 

In view^ of this fact, perhaps, Mrs. 
Ruggles never loses a certain dignity of 
expression and firmness of disposition ac- 
quired in youth, and which the children 
tlxiiik very impressive. 

Many a woman, as toil-worn as little 
Mrs. Ruggles, would grow bitter and self- 
ish, if it were not for the uplifting influence 
of the children ; something to love and 
work for, something to keep her toil un- 
selfish and make life worth living, and for 
whose sake she tries to be a better woman. 

Back of her grim humor there is a cer- 
tain pathos. The most amusing character 
in a book is often the most pathetic. 

There comes a time when the family 
moves into the humble cottage, whose 
garden adjoins that behind the great house 
where lives the rich Mr. Bird. 

Many a needy woman in her position, 
would have resented any attempts on the 
part of the richer neighbors to be kind to 




her or her children, but it is not so with 
Mrs. Kuggles. 

She finds that just because the Birds are 
rich is no reason why they can not be 
friendly towards her; also that her chil- 
dren are rich in the blessings of health, 
while all Mr. Bird's money can not buy a 
strong body for the gentle little girl who 
can never run and play like other children. 

It is through this generous little sufferer 
that so xnuch is done for the Ruggles 
family in many ways, beginning with the 
wonderful Christmas dinner party to which 
all the children are invited. 

The death of this generous little friend 
is a sad ending to this joyous day. The 
lonely woman in the great house envies 
the other in the cottage, but does not 
know what an example she is to that 
other woman in living for others, even in 
the bitterness of her grief. 

Through these influences, life becomes 
broader and sweeter to Mrs. Ruggles. She 
realizes how rich she is, in blessings that 
money can not buy. 

The refining example of true womanli- 
ness ever befoi'e her, and tlie kindness and 
help, given and received in the right spirit, 
do much towards developing the kindness 
and womanliness of her own nature, held 
in check, for the time, by a life of care 
and toil. 

Mrs. Ruggles is a minor character, but 
to me, the most real in the story, the 
heroine alone excepted ; for I knew one 
whose life, like hers, was made sweeter by 
such kindness as was shown to hundjle 
Mrs. Ruggles. 

Theresa Pierce, '96. 


Teacher in English literature — " Why is 
hamlet a better word to use than village?" 

Bright Senior — " It is more Shakes- 

IT was in the latter part of July. The 
sun was trying his best to consume 
everything within reach of his piercing 
rays. All the rain clouds had floated ofi:'to 
visit another planet, and the Wesley family 
were beginning to find the city unendurable. 

Fred, the son, had recently gone otf on a 
fishing excursion with several other boys, 
and had discovered a large, old-fashioned 
farm house on the shore of a beautiful lake. 
He kept writing to his sisters about the 
home-like surroundings, the cool lake 
breezes, and the fish he was catching, till 
they began to wish that they might go to 
that delightful place. Mr. and Mrs. Wesley 
talked it over and decided that, as neither 
of the children had been very well, the 
change might benefit them, so all arrange- 
ments Avere speedily made. The dogs, cats, 
and other pe's were distributed among the 
relatives and friends for safe keeping. An 
extra large front room was engaged, tickets 
were purchased and the carriage ordered 
for three o'clock in the morning. 

The trusty alarm clock failed to do its 
duty; conse(|uently no one waked until the 
carriage drew up at the door. For once, 
Mrs Wesley had no trouble in rousing 
either the children or her younger sister, 
Rene, who was to be one of the party. 
For a few minutes there was i>-reat bustle 
and confusion. Then, with shoes un- 
buttoned and ribbons untied, they started, 
with but five minutes in which to reach 
the station. How earnestly they hoped the 
train would be late ! 

Their hope was fully realized, for the 
train did not even arrive until six. The 
delay gave them ample time for counting 
up the dift'erent things they had forgotten. 
At last they were comfortably settled in the 
car, with umbrellas, grips, and other light 



baggage artistically grouped about them. 
The bell rang, Mr. Wesley bade them good- 
bye, for he had arranged to go a few days 
later, and the train slowly pulled out of the 

As they whirled along over the country, 
it became warmer and warmer. The five- 
cent fans, purchased for the occasion, grew 
ten fold in value, for they had been left on 
the table in the cool library at home. 

Louise, the little four-year-old, curled 
up and went to sleep, and the others forgot 
their trials in admiration of the ever-vary- 
ing landscape. The telegraph poles flew 
along as if by magic, each one introducing 
a more beautiful picture. 

They were to change cars at Milford 
Junction. When the conductor called out 
Milford, they rapidly collected their numer- 
ous bags, bundles, and umbrellas, and got 
out upon the platform, where they were 
informed that Milford Junction was the 
next station — this was plain Milford. 

As they beat an inglorious retreat, with 
the awkward burden of embarrassment 
added to their other baggage, a sympa- 
thetic man across the aisle began to hum: 
" You said good-bye, the parting words 
were spoken," etc. For some unknown 
reason, they did not appreciate his delicate 

They made connections with little delay 
and reached their destination about the 
middle of the afternoon. Fred was to 
have met them at the station, but neither 
Fred nor any one else did they find. The 
station was a narrow board walk about 
ten feet long. Nothing could be seen but 
dense forests and the blue sky. Then 
a man with a wheel-barrow emerged from 
the woods, and, directing them to the near- 
est steamer landing, transported their im- 

They sat there about an hour, waiting, 
like Micawber, for something to turn up. 
At last the steamer came in, and Fred and 
Jim By ran, appeared to give them a tardy 
welcome; and in a short time they had 
crossed the lake and reached the farm 
house. It was a picturesque old home- 
stead, built on a hillside ; pretty vines clung 
to its bleached surface, and large trees 
spread their branches protectingly over it. 

The farmer's wife led the way to their 
apartments, for it was almost time for sup- 
per. Their extra large room was found to 
be about eight by ten, with one window. 
The beds in opposite corners almost 
touched in the middle, and the trunks and 
other baggage had to be left out in the 
hall, to give the occupants standing room. 
Three tin wash basins on a bench out in 
the yard, and a coarse towel on a tree near 
by, were the conveniences provided for 
bathing privileges to be enjoyed by all the 

Weary and disappointed, they sat down 
to the table, vowing vengeance on Fred, 
whose exaggeration had raised false hopes 
in their minds. But the supper put them 
in a better humor. Rene and Marie de- 
clared that the apple butter alone was a 
compensation for all their trouble. So all 
being in excellent spirits, the boys took 
them round the farm, and pointed out the 
spring, and the milk house, and the other 
chief places of interest. 

Every one was tired, and Mrs. Wesley 
thought they had l)etter retire early, so, 
taking the smoking, oily lamp in her hand, 
she led the way. Everything was so new 
and strange and exciting, that the children 
could scarcely be quieted down. Louise, 
especially, was in so hilarious a mood that 
she could not keep still a minute, but 
would jump from one bed to another, and 



dance around, singing and laughing at the 
top of her voice, till finally Mrs. Wesley 
said: " Louise, you must settle down, say 
your prayers, and go to sleep, or I shall 
certainly punish you." Then Louise, with 
a roguish twinkle in her bright eyes, 
replied : " Very well, Mrs. Mamma, I'll say 
my prayers to-night, and I'll say them good; 
then I don't want you to bother me about 
them again till I get home" With that, 
her frolic subsided, and soon they were all 

The next day, Rene and the children 
went tor a walk. Mrs. Wesle}^ was on the 
front porch writing a letter, and the boys 
were scattered about doing nothing, when, 
suddenly, shrill, piercing shrieks were 
heard; and, in a moment, the children, 
screaming with fright, came rushing to 
their mother, with Rene not far behind 
them. They had been chased by some 
dreadful wild beast with iiery eyes. The 
boys started out with their rifle and base 
ball clubs eager for the fray. They found 
the wild beast to be the farmer's pet pig, a 
gentle white poj'ker with pink eyes, stand- 
ing in the middle of the road looking per- 
fectly bewildered. 

When the boys began to tease, the chil- 
dren said that to see a white pig for the 
first time in a dim, uncertain light would 
arouse in anyone a most unpleasant sensa- 
tion. But Rene had no excuse to offer. 

That night in the seclusion of their 
chamber, as they quietly discussed the af- 
fairs of the day, they suddenly discovered 
that the room was already occupied. Louise 
shrieked, "A waps, a waps," and buried her 
head in the clothes. Rene and Mamie did 
likewise, and left Mrs. Wesley to fight out 
the battle alone with the wasp. 

She tried to crush it with an old news- 
paper, but being no politician, the " waps " 
had no fear of the press. He had merely 

come to make a friendly call, and disap- 
peared without ceremony. Afterwards, 
they learned tliat he occupied the room 
above, from which he had a secret stair- 
way leading down to their apartments. 

The " waps " was a friendly neighbor, 
l^ot only dill he himselt call to see them, 
but he brought and introduced to them all 
his kindred spirits, and all manner of creep- 
ing things, and held a reception there every 
night. An entomologist would have rev- 
eled in their nocturnal festivities, but the 
Wesley s were not used to tbat class of so- 
ciety. Their family tree had never pro- 
duced an entomologist. 

The days passed rapidly with picnics, 
excursions, and fun of all kinds. When 
Mr. Wesley came, their happiness was 
complete. The children escorted him 
round with great pride, and showed him 
the haunted cabin, and the skin of the 
rattlesnake killed in the garden a few days 
before, and everything else that had inter- 
ested them. 

The next day was Sunday, and, as there 
was no Church within twenty miles of the 
house, everyone stayed at home, and things 
were rather quiet. In the afternoon, the 
steamer brought a few visitors over to 
get butter-milk, for which this dairy was 
very famous. One of the ladies, by some 
unlucky chance, fell off the pier. No one 
was frightened, for the water was only 
about three feet deep, and she might 
easily liave waded out. But she seemed to 
be having a desperate struggle, so court- 
eous Frank Steele,' although he had just 
put on his best suit, jumped in and rescued 
her. Then he discovered that she had not 
been struggling for her life, but for her 
teeth. Her false teeth had deserted her in 
the hour of need, and been borne away by 
the ebbing tide. Although the depths were 
searched, the plate could not be found. 



She sailed away with a gnawing grief, and 
there was weeping and wailing, hut no 
gnashing of teeth. 

The next week, the farmer's wife had a 
birthday, and the young people in the 
country round about gave her a surprise 
party. They brought provisions for a great 
feast. The cakes were iced with red, white 
and blue sugar — the like in London had 
never been seen. 

The ball costumes of the young ladies 
were the same gowns in which they had 
performed their daily tasks — washing, 
scrubbing, or whatever they may have 
been. The young gentlernen appeared in 
the appropriate dress of the field — quite 
suggestive of the soil. But what a dance 
they had! Rene was the orchestra. She 
could play only two pieces on her banjo, 
but they were so inspiring that they bore 
repetition. She not only charmed the 
dancers, but an unlimited number of giant 
mosquitoes that gathered around her to 
swell the chorus. She might have been 
smothered in the crowd but for the labored 
efiorts of George Miller, who, with a large 
fan for a mace, continually beat them back. 
In spite of all this, she was almost insulted 
when they passed round the hat, and wished 
to pay her for her services. 

The great supper was over, the revel was 
almost at an eiul. The dancers Avere resting 
on the cool veranda. Meanwhile, in the hot 
kitchen, after the farmer's wife had emptied 
the dish water, and hung up the towel, 
glancing at the empty bread-box and plun- 
dered larder, and wiping the perspiration 
from her brow, she sank down on a stool 
with a sigh that seemed to say, " How de- 
lightful a surprise party is ! How did they 
know it was my birthday ? It was very 
sweet of those young people to remember 
an old woman like me." 

When she went into the front room, the 
last guest was leaving, and she went to bed 
completely worn out. Poor woman ! her 
very good nature caused people to impose 
upon her. But, after all, she was happy, 
for she was thoroughly unselfish. 

Vacation ended all too soon. The last 
day came too quickly. They had all had a 
good time, and become as brown as berries. 
IS'evertheless, they really felt glad when 
they reached their own home again. 

Hattie M. Tutewjlvr, '94. 


riAHE hope of the United States for future 
X greatness, will doubtless be fulfilled by 
the rising young statesmen and politicians, 
who have composed the High School Senate. 
This body was organized in '86, through 
the zeal of Miss Donnan and her pupils. 
The average membership since that time 
has been fifty. Each member takes the 
name of a United States Senator and en- 
deavors, as best he can, to assume his at- 
titude on leading questions. 

Officers are elected every six weeks, so 
that several members may experience the 
sensation of being President of the Senate, 
Secretary, etc. Since its organization, nu- 
merous bills have been passed and many 
more rejected; some, after long and heated 
discussions, characterized by a vast expense 
of oratorical and rhetorical eloquence; 
others, without enthusiasm or loss of sleep. 

The abilities of the dift'erent members 
are, of course, unequal. Some are charac- 
terized by " words, words, words, naught 
else but words;" others say little, but, it is 
supposed, think deeply ; while a small, but 
actually existing class, show keen apprecia- 
tion of and clear insight into the problems 



of the day. They express themselves well 
and are gaining a knowledge of govern- 
mental principles which will make them 
valnable citizens. 

Unlike the original, this Senate admits 
the fair sex as members. But we regret to 
say that they do not show the same lively 
interest the young men display. Yet it is 
pleasant to watch their spirits wax hold 
and their blood boil as woman's rights are 

" Youth is ardent," and the members 
often indulge .in bitter raillery or biting 
sarcasm ; but it is all taken good natu redly 
and few friendships are broken. On the 
whole, this organization is a very valuable 
one. Only those who have studied civil 
government are eligible to membership. 
The body is assembled once a week, and 
through its influence, one's oratorical pow- 
ers, self-control, reasoning faculties and 
knowledge of law are trained and devel- 


Tp\ATURE is indeed a "wonder book" 
J^r^ to those who can read her language. 
Until comparatively recent years, however, 
the masses, with the book ever open before 
their eyes, could see little but the pages. 
But in recent times, numerous plans and 
devices have been tried whereby the many 
may enjoy the charm of reading some of 
the simpler stories for themselves from the 
original text. Foremost among these is 
that of the Agassiz Association. This 
society has grown to be the largest scien- 
tific club in the world. 

The D. Chapter, ISTo. 578, was organized 
in our High School in October, 1890, with 
thirty charter members. Membership be- 
ing open to teachers and pupils of the 

High School, and such other persons as 
might be in sympathy with the purposes 
of the society, the number of members has 
been greatly increased since then. 

During the first year of its organization, 
seventeen regular meetings were held, at 
which papers were read upon a wide range 
of subjects, followed by discussions. A 
cabinet of several hundred geological and 
botanical specimens was received and listed. 
A lecture by Dr. H. C. Hovey upon " Wyan- 
dotte and Marengo Caves " was given 
March 17, 1891, in High School hall. 
A " Field - Day " trip to Bloomingdale 
Glens was made June 6th, the equipments 
for which were a large amount of potential 
energy — a good knife — the sweetest smile 
— a yard of twine — a holiday spirit — a 
garden trowel — a microscopic eye — a ham- 
mer — a receptive mind — a botany can — an 
enormous lunch. Since each member of 
the party was thus provided, the trip, of 
course, was a grand success. The following 
prizes were ofl:ered : 

I. To the member of the Agassiz Asso 
ciation presenting the most satisfactory 
botanical collection — a wreath of Anten- 
naria margaritacea. 

II. To the one making the most com- 
plete geological collection — a Pennsylvania 

III. To the one finding a rock contain- 
ing a new element — an ounce bottle of 
aracarboxylic acid with which to test it. 

A trip to Wyandotte Cave was made on 
June 24th, and proved such a success that a 
party of thirty again made it in '92. Last 
year, the " Shades of Death " were visited. 
An enjoyable reception was also given last 

The study of subjects chiefly relating to 
Indiana, her topography, geology, soil, 
mines, quarries, caves, gas fields, and other 



natural features has proved very enter- 
taining and instructive. Last year, the 
work was cliiefly biological ; this year, a 
course in mineralogy has been pursued 

A very creditable exhibit was made at 
the World's Fair by our chapter. The 
officers elected for this year were : 

President — John Fox. 

Vice-President — Mary Ritter. 

Rec. Secretary — Rousseau McClellan. 

Cor. Secretary — Bessie Pray. 

Treasurer — Harley Gibbs, 

The programme committee consists of 
several teachers — Mr. Benton, Mr. Martin, 
Mr. Crowell, Mr. Burrell. 



Frank Atkins — An electric light. 
James O'Donnell — A second Zimmerman. 
Win Craft — A detective. 
Joe Catherwood — A base ball umpire. 
Milton Rhodes — A successor to Booth. 
Clarence Stanley — An explorer. 
Lee Elam — A. married man. 
Clarence Huflbrd — A high school princi- 

Macy Good — A bachelor. 

Harley Gibbs — An orator. 

Nat Owings — A Sunday-school teacher. 

Floyd Lamb — A butcher. 

Harvey Moore — A Paderewski. 

Russ Powell — A policeman. 

Walt Somerville — An ice man. 


May 30th. 

Into the valley of the awful shade, 

Proudly they marched with clear, unfaltering eyes, 
Nor flinched they when the angel came and laid 

Upon their brows the wreaths of sacrifice. 

The earth, their mother, keeps her sacred trust, 
And shields them ever from the suns and snows. 

While year by year above their hallowed dust, 
Remembrance, fragrant as the violet, blows. 

— Clinton Scollard, in Judge. 

C \RB, admitted as a guest, quickly turns 
to be master. — B^cee. 

The wealth of a man is the number of 
things which he loves and blesses ; which 
he is loved and blessed by. — Carlyle. 

What we truly and earnestly aspire to be, 
that in some sense we are. The mere aspi- 
ration, by changing the frame of the mind, 
for the moment realizes itself. — Mrs. Jame- 


Duty is a power that rises with us in the 
morning and goes to rest with us at night. 
It is coextensive with the action Of our in- 
telligence. It is the shadow that cleaves to 
us, go where we will — Gladstone. 

Out of monuments, names, words, prov- 
erbs, traditions, private records and evi- 
dences, fragments of stories, passages of 
books and the like, do we save and recover 
somewhat from the deluge of time. — Bacon. 

It is no trouble to see that wealth is a 
curse — as long as the other fellow has it. — 
Plain Dealer. 

Books, we know are a substantial world, 
both pure and good, round which, with 
tendrils strong as flesh and blood, our past- 
ime and our happiness will glow. — Words- 

Instruction is but an incidental part of 
education. To educate is to unfold, and to 
instruct is to enfold. 

Imagination is what makes a butterfly 
of the grub called observation. 

To enjoy one's work is no less necessary 
than to enjoy the definite result of it — 
Kathrine Grosjean. 

HE Art 
D e p art- 
nient of 
tlie Iii- 
lis High 
School is, perhaps, some- 
what unique. 

Effort is made to place 
the work as far as possi- 
ble on a level with true 
art and instill into the 
minds of the pupils a 
feeling for the true and 
the good. 

The work is such with 
the individual pupil that 
it must necessarily result 
in each one's developing 
his own personality and 
becoming his own critic. 

The work is from casts, 
still life studies, and from 
life, with charcoal and 
water colors as the ma- 

1^0 particular system 
is followed, the effort be- 
ing made to keep in touch 
with the latest thought, 
and to make the pupils 
familiar with the princi- 
ples which underlie all 
good drawing. 

jSTot only is there an effort to in- 
still into the mind of the pupil a 
tljorough knowledge of the use of 
the material and the principles of 
the work, but art illustrations m 
the form of art journals, the hang- 
ing of good pictures, and a selec- 
tion of the best models are taken as guides. 
Interest in art is stimulated by short 
talks, and by the organization for w^ork 
outside of the school. 

A Pen and Ink Club has met once each 
week for four years for the purpose of 
practice and the study of leading illustra- 
tors and illustrations. 

A permanent organization called " The 
Sketching Club," consisting of twenty-five 
members, is an outgrowth of the High 
School work. Its purpose is the study of 
what is the true in art, as well as practice 
in the technique. 

The progress of the whole work is 
necessarily slow, but is an effort toward 
freedom and self-activity in art. 

" All art worthy of the name is the 
energy, neither of the human body alone, 
nor of the human soul alone, but of both 
united, one guiding the other; good crafts- 
manship and work of the fingers joined 
with good emotion and work of the heart." 
— Kuskin. 

" So long as Art is steady in the contem- 
plation and exhibition of natural facts, so 
long she herself lives and grows." 


CALENDAR, 1893-94 and congratulations of all in attendance, 
and the colors of the vanquished. 

Obtobbr 21. — The class of '94 gave a re- February 2.— The commencement exer- 

ception to memhers and faculty in High cises of the February class of '94 were held 

School hall. The i-oom was tastefully in Tomlinson hall. The stage presented a 

adorned with handsome rugs, flags, palms charming scene with its rows of bright, 

and potted plants. At a dainty table, lem- fresh-looking faces, aglow with the ex- 

onade and cake were served by young ladies citement and novelty of the event. Owing 

of the class, and quaint souvenirs were dis- to the popularity and reputation of the 

tributed by others. During the afternoon, class, there was an unusually large audience 

an excellent musical programme was ren- present, the aisles and corridors being 

dered. A grand march, at the close, thor- thronged with people. Below, a pro- 

oughly mingled the members of the class, gramme of the evening is given: 

it being so arranged that each person could Musk Orchestra. 

converse with a different partner for two Prayer Eev. F. E. Dewhurst. 

or three minutes. ^''"-y "Who are the Free?" 

MiLLY L. Logan. 

NoVEMBtR 15. — Mr. Cleland read a paper Essay . . "The Influence of French Wives on English 

on " Chaucer and the Canterbury Tales," Kings." 

IP j-ia- 1 rpi \ • 4. Theresa C. Ferguson. 

berore the Senior class. Ihe subieet was „ . ,,„, „ . . , t , , ^t 

, . . 'Jm<iOH, 1 lie Province 01 the Independent Newspaper. 

treated in a very scholarly and artistic Fbitz Keull. 

manner, and was greatly enjoyed by his Pmno ^/o—Tannhauser Wagner- Liszt. 

youthful audience. May Aufderheide. 

Essay ..." The Lady of the Lamp, and the Angel of 

January 19 — Presentation of "Julius the Battlefield." 

Cicsar," by the Seniors in High School Helen A. Loeper. 

hall, with musical interludes, by Miss ^''"y " Heroism in Every-Day Life." 

. ,. , , . , Martha T. Henderson. 

Autderneide. /, ,■ << i tj n ^ rp , ,> 

Oration ' A Problem of To-day. 

January 26. — The semi-annual civil . John W. Phillips. 

, ,1 i.^ r^ j--i j.- j^ Music Pligh School Quartette. 

fi^overnment match on tlie Constitution ot „ r . t, 

^ . ^ . Eernaer Lizius. Adolph Seidensticker, 

the United States, was held in the hall be- Fritz Krull Paul Martin. 

fore a large and interested audience. The Essay "Two Personalities." 

first one of these matches was held in '91, Mary C. Ritter. 

, 1 11 J T. r Oration " The Educated Man in Society." 

in 1-esponse to a cnallenge made by one ot tt r. t- 

^ ^ J Herbert C. Kahn. 

the civil government classes to its rivals. Essay . . . "Dickens' Portraiture of Women." 

The result was a victory to the challeng- Minnie L. Kautsky. 

ing class, in which three girls carried off" ^tusie Orchestra. 

,11 1 ci- i.1 j.T~ IT i. 1 PRESENTATION OF DIPLOMAS. 

the laurels. Since then, the public match 


has been a regular feature of commence- 

ment week, and is an examination in ^^ebruary 22-Colonel Black lectured in 

which all Civil Government pupils must ^'^^^ ^'^^1' ^^ ^^^ ^"^^^'^ ^^^i^^^- 
participate. The entire Constitution is re- March 2 — Ex. -Gov. A Q. Porter, former 

cited, clause by clause, oerbatim, and those Minister to Italy, talked to the assembled 

who are successful in memorizing it, so as school concerning what he had seen while 

to down opponents, receive the admiration in that historic country. He gave a great 



deal of interesting information about tlie 
every-day customs of the Italians, such as 
are not often mentioned in books. His 
talk was exceedingly entertaining and in- 
structive, and was very highly appreciated 
by the pupils. 

March 24 — Reception for the classes of 
'94, with the June class as host and hostess. 
The spacious hall was again transformed 
from its barren bleakness to a thing of 
beauty. An amusing part of the pro- 
gramme was a prophecy of the June class 
read by one of its members. 

Extracts from it may be of interest: 

Dear Friend — 

This beautiful day carries me back to 
that bright afternoon, eight years ago, 
when we sailed for Africa to labor with 
the heathen. Now you are settled on your 
African farm, and I am in my native land. 

I know I can tell you of nothing that 
will interest you more than about our for- 
mer school-mates and what they are doing. 
Ours Avas a star class in more ways than 
one. What fun we used to have in the 
Debating Club, the Senate, and the U. S. 
C. ! Do you remember our banquet and 
the class social we gave? But to return 
to the pupils themselves. 

Our valedictorian, our Sagitarins Fer- 
gutilins, our poet, our linguist, our nature 
student from whom we expected so much, 
can you believe it, is peddling St. Jacob's 
Oil ? I scarcely recognized him in the 
peculiar garb that the followers of St. 
Jacob Avear, the long cloak and pointed 
hood, with a staff in one hand and a bottle 
of oil in the other. 

I heard Bernie Kirshbaum lecture on 
" Temperance " one night last week. They 
say he has become very famous. 

Alice Randall has become a distinguished 
artist. You remember she used to draw 
well. She has made a special study of 
ears, and her pictures are so expressive ! 

She says that Lizzie, hardy, strong and 
good natured, as usual, is just about to 
move to Kansas. You know we always 
expected that she Avould hop with the 
grasshoppers at some time. And Helen 
Parry, wonderful to relate, is traveling 
with Forepaugh's " Greatest Show on 
Earth," as a living skeleton. 

June Southern has discovered the North 
Pole, but I do not see that it is to her ad- 
vantage ; it merely doubles her tax, that is 
her poll tax. 

I suppose you have heard the result of 
the recent election. The country is fairly 
ringing with the praises of our tirst lady 
president, who is none other than our 
former school-mate, Nellie Carnahan. I 
must tell you about Miss Don nan. You 
know now there is an additional member 
in the president's cabinet, the Secretary of 
Education. She fills this office, and her 
husband is the editor of the leading demo- 
cratic paper in Washington. 

Mary Coyner has a lucrative position in 
the mint at Philadelphia, and Mamie Win- 
ter runs a summer hotel at Lake Fairview. 

Thomas Mayhugh has been flying high 
ever since he obtained the patent on his 
air ship. They are used here now alto- 
gether for rapid transit except on the Mis- 
sissippi and Ilaughville lines. 

The Indian question is settled at last. 
Richard Reeves, the great hypnotist, has 
brought the Indians under subjection and 
has guaranteed that they will cause no 
more trouble. 

Clyde Freeman has become a perfect 
slave to his relations. They come to visit 
him in swarms, from north, east, south and 



west. I thought he would be a great 
singer, but it is said the only song he ever 
sings is this : 

" O, Jacob, bring the cows home and put them in the 

The cousins are all coming to see us once again." 

with the chorus ending — 

" Jerusha, put the kettle on 
We'll all take tea." 

They used to say that women never in- 
vented anything, but they can say that no 
longer, for Edna Wallace has made one of 
the most important inventions ever con- 
ceived of. It is an adjustable escort, that 
is, a machine which, when folded, looks 
just like an umbrella, but when you press 
a but' on, it opens up into the form of a 
man, and with the turn of a crank, offers 
its arm and walks by your side, so that 
you may feel free from any fear of a 
nightly marauder. I wish this had been 
invented a few years earlier, don't 3'ou? 

Caroline Minor has found her major and 
seems to be content with the ever-varying 
life of an army officer's wife. 

Dale Gilbert is a hunter in the far west, 
a perfect Nimrod, chasing game o'er hill 
and dale. Anson Washburn is a school 
teacher in Minneapolis. He recently in- 
vented an electrical thrashing machine, 
and now his is the model school of the 

Hettie Kopp married a policeman, a 
gentleman of leisure. Juliette Bryan is 
the leading Presbyterian minister of Nortli 

Edwin Hisey is quite a singer; he 
reaches high C with perfect ease. Harley 
Gibbs keeps a restaurant, famous for its 
Boston baked beans. Helen Moore and 
Florence Webster have joined the " Little 
Sisters of the Poor." Helen Armstrong is 
the champion tennis player of the State. 

Miss Thayer's brow is crowned with 
laurels. She is the acknowledged queen 
of song. 

Earnest Gray is an earnest worker in 
the Salvation Army; he is a standard 
bearer. Paul Martin's accomplishments 
are appalling. 

Nellie Hewitt and Alice Murry were 
among the Kepresentatives sent to Con- 
gress at the recent election. 

E iza Mays has made her fortune from 
Indian corn. Many of the pupils I know 
nothing of. It is simph' impossible to 
trace them all. 

"All me, what changes time hath wrouglit. 
And how predictions have miscarried ; 

A few have reached the goal they sought. 
And some are dead, and some are married I 

And some in city journals war. 

And some as politicians bicker, 
And some are pleading at the bar — 

For jury verdicts, or for liquor," as Saxe says. 

However, I find one person who is still 
the same — M rs. Iluflbrd. I went to see her 
the other day, and she is still teaching the 
young idea how to shoot, just as patient 
and as helpful as of old. Her present pu- 
pils seem to regard her with an affection 
similar to ours, but I do not see how it can 
be as fifreat She has a golden key which 
unlocks all hearts, and, living with young 
people and for them, she has discovered the 
secret of perpetual youth. 

Remember to feed my pet monkey, and 
don't tax his brain too much with those 
primer lessons. 

Write soon to your friend, 

Hattie de Garcia y Aquilar. 

March 30— Mr. Sidney II. Morse deliv- 
ered a lecture on " Sculpture,'' and while 
he talked, moulded a bust of Emerson. It 
is needless to say the lecture was of deep 
interest to all. In the evening of the same 


day, he gave a second lecture, entitled, scatter seeds of science and of song, that 

" Recollections of Emerson." climate, corn, animals, and men may be 

May 5-The June class of '96 gave a "^il^er, and the germs of love and benefit 

social in High School hall on "Emerson may be multiplied. 

Day." The hours were from three to six " ^^ ""^ the true scholar the true master? 

and from seven to nine. During the after- The scholar is educated by nature, by 

noon, Mr. Sidney Morse unveiled a fine ^ooks and by actions. Life is his diction- 

bust of Emerson, which the class presented ^O' ; action with him is subordinate, but it 

to the school. The souvenirs of the after- ^^ essential ; without it, he is not yet man. 

noon contained a token sent by John Bur- The oflice of the scholar is to cheer, to 

roughs from his home. i'^^^^' ^"^^ ^^ 8""ide men, by showing them 

The programme for the afternoon was as ^^^ts amidst appearances. He_ is to find 

follows- " consolation in exercising the highest func- 
tions in human nature. He is the one 

Sony "The Poet," Emerson. , . , . . ,. „ . , . i 

Miss Virginia Sale ^^^^^ raises himselt from private considera- 

Remarks " Emerson in Concord." tions, and breathes and lives ou public and 

Miss Mary E. Nicholson. illustrious thoughts. He is the world's 

^""9 "The Humble Bee,". . . Emerson. . be 18 the world's heart; he is to re 

Mr. Harry Smith. • i i ■ . ^ 

Recitation " Selections from Emerson." ^ist the vulgar prosperity, by preserving 

Mr. Daniel Brown. and communicating heroic sentiments, 

(This number is printed below.) uoblc biographies, mclodious verse, and 

Emerson tells us that great geniuses live conclusions in history A scholar is the 

in their writings. This is certainly true favorite of heaven and earth; the excel- 

of him. No better tribute can be paid lency of his country ; the happiest of men. 

him than to C[UOte his own words concern- His duties lead him directly into holy 

ing the great man, the scholar and the ground, where other men's aspirations only 

poet, for he was all of these. He says : point. * * * The scholar is the stu- 

"I accept the saying of the Chinese dent of the world, and of what worth the 

Mencius, 'A sage is the instructor of a world is, and with what emphasis it accosts 

hundred ages. When the manners of Loo the soul of man, such is the worth and 

are heard of, the stupid become intelligent such the call of the scholar, 

and the wavering, determined.' "The poet is the man without imped- 

" I count him a great man, who inhabits iment, who sees and handles that which 

a higher sphere of thought, into which others dream of, traverses the whole scale 

men rise with labor and ditticulty. * * * of experience, and is representative of man 

Senates and sovereigns have no compli- in virtue of being the largest power to re- 

ment, with their medals, swords and arm- ceive and impart. 

orial coats, like addressing to a human "The universe has three children born 

being, thoughts out of a certain height at the same time — the knower, the doer 

and presupposing intelligence. * * * and the sayer ; these stand for the love of 

Great men exist that there may be greater truth, for the love of good, and for the love 

men. * * * It is for man to tame of beauty. These three are equal. The 

chaos ; on every side, whilst he lives, to poet is the sayer, the namer and represents 


beauty. He is sovereign and stands on the the Civil Government library. The cast 

center. For the world is not painted or of characters was well chosen and the am- 

adorued, hut is, from the beginning, ateurs in age seemed experienced actors. 

beautiful. Several hundred dollars were realized. 

"All that we call sacred history attests xr c^r * . i .1 .1 • -■ ,> 

,, , ,1 1 . ^, n j_ ■ ^1 • • 1 May 25. — At both the morning and after- 

that the birtli or a poet is the principal . . , * 

, . , 1 noon sessions, musical programmes were 

event in chronology. , -, ■ tt- 1 c, -, 1 1 n? 1 

,,,^■^T^ i_ oT 1 r- rendered in Hiffh bcliool hall to the assem- 

'" What news: asks man or man every- ,,11, ,. , i , * 

T rni 1 . 11 p • ,1 bled body or students. A visitor from 

where, ihe only teller of news is the ^, . -, -,■ -, . ■, • 1 

^ ^, , 1 !*■ ^ •,, .1 Chicago, who listened to the music by our 

poet; the world listens with the assurance ., ^ -t ,,-r ^ n, • ■, i ^^ 

\ ^ . /^ /-, T • , 1 , pui)ils, said: "f have often paid a dollar 

that now a secret or God is to be spoken. i , , , 1 • 1 

mi • 1 ^ .• ■ ^ ■ 1 and more to hear concerts which were not 

ihe right poetic miud IS, or makes, a more , ,„ ,. „ rn, tt- 1 ti 1 , 1 

, ^ .,-,■, • • ,, .1 hair Sonne. ihe lliffh School orchestra 

complete sensibility, piercmo- the outward , ,, ' , 

J, ^\ ^, •,..!%, 1 gave two excellent numbers, 
tact to the meaning of the tact; shows a 

sharper insight. The test of the poet is May 25. — The Juniors gave a party at 

the power to take the passing day with its the home of the Misses Shover on East 

news, its cares, its fears, as he shares them, Michigan street. 

and hold it up to a divine reason till he ,- nr. t> x- i .li -m 1 1 

- ^ ^ ., , May 26 — iieception by the l<ebruary class 

sees it to have a purpose and beauty, and p ,,,„ . , , ,, 

to be related to asti-<^iioniy and history and mi p n • ' j j 

, 1 -, n T , 1 ihe following programme was rendered, 
the eternal order of the world. 

" The poet's office is to— ^''^"s^c "Frolic of Sylphs." 

Young Men's Kapella. 

"Tell men what thev knew l)efore; Director, K. B. Eudy. 
Paint the prosj^ect from their door. 

Paper "John Burroughs.', 

"The gods talk in the breath of the words, ]yjjj^ Dewhurst. 
They talk in the shaken pine, 

And fill the long reach of the old sea-shore Song "Casper Lullaby." 

"With dialogue divine. Miss Cunningham. 

And the iioet who overhears t. j / 

Some random word they say ^«'"^"/''« Governor Matthews. 

Is the fated man of men, Violin Solo "Fantasies," Beriot. 

Whom the ages must obey." Miss Hadley. 

Soiuj — "Waldeinsamkeit" Emerson. Song Selected. 

Mrs. F. E. Dewhukst. Bald Headed CIlee Club. 

presentation and unveiling of the bust. t c\ tc-r\- ^^ ~r\ ;5 

June 2. — "field Day exercises were 

Mr. William Day, President of Class. 1 ■ 1 , . 1 tti • o. 1 

Mr. Sidney H. Morse, Sculptor. ^^^Id at the Fair Grouuds. 

Keception of tlie bust by Principal Hufford. j^^^^ ll.-Commencement excrcises of 

Remarks bv vV. P. I'lshback then lollowed. 

the June class 01 94. 

May 12 — Reception by Juniors in High 

School hall. The elaborately decorated June 12 —Reception to classes of '04 by 

room, the dainty refreshments, fine music Principal and Mrs. G. W. Huflbrd, at their 

and pretty souvenirs made the reception a home on 1 ark avenue, 

very enjoyable affkir. ^^^^^ 13 ^^^ 14.— Art exhibit in High 

May 17, 18, 19 — "The Hoosier School- School hall. On this occasion, the work 

master" was presented by the Civil Govern- done by pupils in the Art Department of 

ment classes of this year for the benefit of the school will be displayed, and the work 



of Manual Training pupils be exhibited. 
Work in the Chemical and Physical labora- 
tories will also be in progress. 

June 15. — High School Alumni Reunion 
in High School hall. 

"Our revels then are ended." 


*^ YOUTH to fortune and to fame un- 
^\ known, dressed in his customary 
suit of solemn black, leaves the scenes of 
his childhood, the happy fields unknown 
to noise and strife, ostensibly to roam, mid 
the pleasures and palaces of Indianapolis, 
but really in pursuit of the eagle of fame. 
Concealment, like a worm in the bud, has 
kept from the eyes of those who held him 
dear his manuscript hidden within his inky 
cloak. Oft in the stilly night, those evening 
bells had seemed to say " Go where glory 
waits thee," i. e., the publishing house of 
the High School Annual. 

The way seems long before him and his 
heart "outruns his footsteps. ITow he sees 
the lights of the city gleam through the 
rain and the mist, and a feeling of gladness 
comes o'er him that his soul can not resist. 
At last he reaches the busy mart, and as he 
strolls through the crowded thoroughfare, 
he hears the trailing garments of the night 
sweep through her marble halls, and his 
prophetic soul admonishes him to wait till 
morning's ruddy beam tints the eastern sky, 
and to let Nature's sweet restorer, balmy 
sleep, soften the heart of the man of flint, 
and then beard the lion in his den, the pub- 
lisher in his sanctum sanctorum. 

So amid the giddy throng he plods his 
weary way. But, there is a sound of rev- 
elry by night, and see, a light through 


yonder window breaks ; it is the gas, and 
High School pupils are the sons and 
daughters from whose lips will flow sounds 
of riiusic, words of wonder. Soon he is 
toiling upward in the night to reach the 
balcony of Tomlinson hall. Here what a 
scene of beauty meets the eye, for bright 
the light shines on fair women and brave 

EftsooDS he hears a most melodious 
sound of all that might delight a dainty 
ear, such as at once might not on living 
ground save in this paradise, be heard else- 
where. The music dies away. Then arises 
the observed of all observers, the glass of 
fashion and the mould of form. He speaks 
as with a voice of spheral harmony. No 
sooner has he ceased, than all the multitude 
of people, with a shout loud as from num- 
bers without number, frighted the reign of 
chaos and old Night. 

Then comes one made up of loveliness 
alone. Brown eyes has the little maiden, 
brown eyes with beauty laden. The rain- 
bow must have lent her some of its airy 
grace, the wild rose parted with a blush 
that nestles on her face. Rich and rare are 
the gems she wears. Her gown, why ay ! 
What's this? a sleeve! Pearls and roses 
drop from her lips. The youth is amazed. 
His eyes are fixed in meditation — her bright 
smile haunts him still. 

Next, a girl who was a favorite, even 
though she danced and played croquet, and 
wrought upon her folks to get her fancy 
shoes that didn't fit her. But men bark- 
ened to her words and wondered at her 

Then behold, a daughter of the gods, 
divinely tall and most divinely fair, and she 
has donned a silken robe and bound her 
locks with pearls. And when she speaks, 
sweet words like dropping honey, she doth 



Now comes 3'oung Cicero : 

From Toledo to Gerona, 

From Seville to Barcelona, 
From Burgoz to Penaflor, 

No such gem was seen before. 

His words seem oracles that pierced their 
bosoms, and each man would turn and gaze, 
in wonder, on his neighbor's face, that with 
like dumb wonder answered him. Then 
some would weep some shout, some, deeper 
touched, keep down the cry with mo- 
tion of their hands, in fear but to have 
lost a syllable. Then all the mountains 
clap their hands in joy, and all the catar- 
acts thunder, " That's the boy." 

The next is a phantom of delight, a rare 
and ravishing maiiJen. 'Tis art, sweet 
art. New radiance broke when her light 
foot flew over the ground. Her speech 
was a fine sample on the whole, of rhetoric, 
which the learned call 'rig-marole." 

Mark the majestic fabric of her who now 
comes forth. She is a temple ; her face is 
like a lily, and her eyes have a swimming 
glory. Her tinsel-tangled hair, tossed and 
lossed upon the air, is glossier and flossier 
than any anywhere. Her words, which 
bear a mission high, with music hallowed, 
ne'er will die. 

Then with head upraised and look 
intent, and eye and ear attentive bent, and 
locks flung back, and lips apart, in listen- 
ing mood the youth doth start ; and as a 
verray parfit gentil knight, advances to 
the front. A man he is to all the country 
dear, and passing rich, with forty pounds a 
3'ear. He is wrapped in the solitude of his 
own originality, while he utters words of 
learned length and thundering sound. 

Amazed, the gazing people ranged around, 
and still they gazed, and still the wonder 
grew, that one small head should carry all 
he knew. 

The youth is awed by the eloquence in the 
air, and crumples up his poor manuscript, 
murmuring, "I have neither wit, nor 
words nor worth." He feels his own 
insignificance, and is overwhelmed in list- 
ening to the words of wisdom dropped 
from the lips of those who now are silent. 

But there are others. Blue eyes, gray 
eyes, black eyes and brown gleam with in- 
telligence, and look the words they dare 
not speak. A few can touch the magic 
string, and noisy Fame is proud to win 
them; alas for those that never sing, but 
leave with all their music in them. Weep 
for the voiceless, who have known the 
cross, without the crown of glory. 

But tempasfugit, and when the clock in 
the steeple strikes twelve, the youth quiet- 
ly steals away, and goes forth under the 
open sky, not to list to nature's teachings, 
but to take the wings of the morning and 
fly to the cot where he was born. On 
rocky isles, as he passed by, there he let 
his manuscript lie, and then returned to the 
deserted village, contented to sit by his 
ain fireside, and hear the old band play. 

R. AND T. 

To INSURE success in after life, a graduate 
should wear 

"Something old 

And something new, 
Something borrowed 
And something blue," 






Colors : Old gold, white. 

Motto : " To be rather than to seem." 


Colors : Royal purple, lemon yellow. 

Motto: Truth our Light, Conscience 
our Guide. 


Mabel Albersmeier, 
G. Frank Atkins, 
A. May Aufderheide, 
Flora B. Austin, 
J. Milton Benson, 
Augusta J. Brown, 
Mamie I. Brown, 
M. Blanche Canine, 
Susan Chipman, 
Athena B. Christy, 
Emma Cress, 
Nannie E. Davis, 
Mary Dickson, 
Ella Evans, 
Celia Feibleman, 
Theresa C. Ferguson, 
Tillie M. Frietsche, 
Nellie F. Hardy, 
Martha T. Henderson, 
Gertrude L. Henry, 
Eleanor A. Kalb, 
Herbert C. Kahn, 
Minnie L. Kautsky, 
Maria C. Keehn, 
Sara E. Kingsbury, 

Fritz KruU, 
Elizabeth Lawrence, 
Caroline List, 
Bernard J. Lizius, 
Helen A. Loeper, 
Milly L. Logan, 
M. Edna Manning, 
Harriet A. McCoy, 
Edward G. Meyers. 
Frank C. Olive, 
Lizzie O'Mara, 
Grace Oval, 
Mary Pickens, 
John W. Phillips, 
Bessie Pray, 
Mary C. Kitter, 
Flora Schliebitz, 
Adolph Seidensticker, 
Blanche Shaw, 
Edwin E. Shelton, 
Urbanna Spink, 
William G. Tucker, 
Joseph H. Ward, 
Katie Warren, 
Nellie W. Webb. 

Helen Armstrong, 
Dwight Baggerly, 
Cornelia Bell, 
Martha Blaich, 
Joseph Bottorff, 
Nellie Bowman, 
Juliette Bryan, 
Davis Byrkit, 
Nellie Carnahan, 
Mary Coyner, 
Nellie Cressler, 
Virgil Dalrymple, 
Mabel Davy, 
Edward DeHaven, 
Eliza Edwards, 
Lee Flam, 
Lena P'aught, 
Archer Ferguson, 
Clyde Freeman, 
Harley Gibbs, 
Dale Gilbert, 
Earnest Gray, 
Alice Halpin, 
Kate Hamilton, 
Laura Hanna, 
Helen Hardin, 
Lizzie Hardy, 
Orison Hayes, 
Nellie Hewitt, 
Edwin Hisey, 
Frank .Jelleff, 
Sampson Keeble, 
Bernard Kirshbaum, 
Hettie Kopp, 
Den a Lauter, 
Myrtle Lefeber, 
Marshall Lewis, 

Naomi Marer, 
.Jessie Marshall, 
Paul Martin, 
Walter Marting, 
Lammie Mason, 
Elizabeth Maurer, 
Georgia Mayer, 
Thomas Mayhugh, 
Eliza Mays, 
Lillie McCann, 
Charles McGroarty, 
Caroline Minor, 
Alice Minthorn, 
Helen Moore, 
Alice Murry, 
Celia Naughton, 
Helen Parry, 
Emma Pearson, 
Alice Eandall, 
Richard Reeves, 
Margaret Sale, 
Lena Southard, 
Clarence Stanley, 
Katie Stuckey, 
Myrtle Taylor, 
Marie Taylor, 
Laurel Thayer, 
Ella Thompson, 
Lillie Thompson, 
Beatrice Tice, 
Hattie Tutewiler, 
Edna Wallace, 
Anson Washburn, 
Florence Webster, 
Gertrude Whitsit, 
Mamie Winter. 




Dear class of '94, 
Praises for thee outpour, 

In gladsome song. 
Long has thy watchword been, 
Sounding 'bove trumpet din : 
"Wealth, wisdom, power are kin, 

And love's full strong." 

Sweet hours in study spent, 
Teachers, who knowledge lent, 

Both we do bless. 
From mcTn'ry ne'er will fade 
Those truths with love inlaid, 

Imparted for our aid, 

In I. H. S. 

Now brothers, sisters, all, 
Let us, what e'er befall. 

To purpose cleave. 
Life's work, the best we'll do. 
Heart, hand and soul, all true, 
With good all minds imbue. 

Men closer weave. 

Herbert C. Kahn, February, 'i»-l. 


Now our ship at anchor rideth. 
Waiting for the wind and tide. 

That with speed and joy will beai 
O'er the ocean broad and wide. 
Onward ! onward ! 

'Till in heaven she shall ride. 


Long hath been the loving labor 
That hath carved her stately mast. 

Spread her sails and fixed her timbers. 
Made them strong and sure and fast. 
Onward ! onward ! 

'Till we're safe from every blast. 

Faith shall hold the golden rudder, 
Truth shall be our captain brave, 

At our prow shall stand fair Freedom, 
Looking forward o'er the wave, 
Onward ! onward ! 

To the sunlit land we crave. 

'Ever ready," be our watchword. 

Strong be we to fight and pray, 
Keeping loyal guard and steadfast, 
Meeting foes without dismay. 
Onward ! onward ! 
To that glorious, perfect day. 

Fear we not the storm and tempest, 

Trusting Him who rules above, 
He will gently homeward guide us, 

Though afar we wand'ring rove. 
Onward ! onward ! 
'Till we rest beneath His love. 

Onward, then, let us be sailing, 
While the sea bii'ds 'round us fly. 

And the wind our white sails filleth, 
And the sunlight's in the sky. 
Onward ! onward ! 

'Till we rest at last on high. 

Geo. Archer Ferguson., June, '94. 

The winds of Heaven never fanned. 
The circling sunlight never spanned 
The borders of a better land 
Than our own Indiana. — S. T. Bolton. 


II JHHHIilllllHiH^y*^^M 

[^^H^H^B^^\ ^^^^^9 









President — Frank R. Jelleff. 
Vice-President — Clarence Stanley. 
Secretary — Macy S. Good. 
Treasurer — Will H. Hall. 


Prof. G. W. Huffoi-d, 
Prof. A. I. Dotey, 
Mr. Hugh Bryan, 

Mr. ]^at. C. Owings, 
Mr. Stetson Parker, 
Mr. Clarence Stanley, 
Mr. Macy S. Good, 
Mr. Will H. Hall, 
Mr. Joseph Swain, 
Mr. Day Pattison. 

Colors : Old gold and light blue. 

The formation of the 
Athletic Association, 
ending in our success- 
ful field meet, has been 
the sensation of the 
school year. The in- 
terest in general athletics in our school 
has been steadily growing during the 
past few years, and the formation of 
the Athletic Association has been the re- 

sult. However, much credit is due to Mr. 
Bryan, manager of the foot-ball team, 
through whose efforts the existence of the 
organization is largely due. The plan was 
first proposed by him at a meeting of the 
foot-ball team .at the close of last season, 
and a meeting for organization was, at last, 
called in January. 

Great enthusiasm was shown by the boys 
at this meeting, and after a constitution 



was proposed and adopted, it was signed 
by over sixty persons, who thereby signi- 
fied their intention of becoming members. 
At the next meeting, a board of directors 
was elected, five members to serve for six 
months and the remaining five for one 
year. A directors' meeting was called a 
few days later, and officers elected. 

After considering various projects in re- 
gard to the organization of different clubs 
under the association, the Board deemed 
it advisable to make the field meet the 
event of the year. 

Work was immediately begun for the 
accomplishment of this end, and after con- 
siderable trouble, the State Fair Grounds 
were secured for June 2d. Thanks to the 
generosity of the merchants of our city, 
prizes equal to any ever offered in this 
state at a like event were secured. 

And now that the first annual field meet 
of the Indianapolis High School has been 
so decided a success, every one, we think, 
anites in giving a vote of thanks to the 
board of directors and others who have 
worked so faithfully in behalf of the I. H. 
S. A. A. ' J. 



Some one must have won a bottle of 

Lewis Hasselman is the association whis- 

Where on earth did Catherwood (our 
own dear Joe) ever raise the amount of 
the initiation fee? 

Pay up your dues for the coming sum- 
mer, Mr. President. This is not intended 
for a joke. 

We ought to get an association pin very 

Perhaps you did not know that there 
was a lady member on the board of di- 
rectors. It is Hazel, but I did not say 

The proposed military company would 
undoubtedly be an excellent thing, both 
for the school and the pupil. An army 
officer could be secured as instructor, if it 
were incorporated as a regular subject in 
the school course. The eflFect that it would 
have upon the boys physically is the 
greatest argument in favor of the proposed 
company. It would sustain among the 
boys an interest in the school, for the 
effect of brass buttons is not to be disre- 
garded. We hope the matter will be 
given careful consideration in the near 

The low records for some of the field- 
day events may be explained by the lack 
of practice. The inclement weather of 
the two weeks before the day, necessitated 
the stoppage of training by most of the 
boys. It is certainly apparent that a gym- 
nasium is needed, and needed badly. The 
directors of the association, knowing of 
the expense the school board was under, 
incurred by the building of the industrial 
school, decided not to press the matter 
this season. We hope, however, that next 
year the school board will decide to fos- 
ter the growing interests in general ath- 
letics among us, by building for us a well 
equipped gymnasium. J. 


tempora, mores! Mr. Burrell was 
seen trying to mount a wheel in the yard 
a few days since. 

Ira is not very good on the home 
(Holme) stretch. 

Landers sets the pace on the road. 

The cycling club has, as yet, failed to 



They say that Mr. Dotey was an ardent 
rider when at college This does not im- 
ply that he had a " pony." 

An electric wheel will soon be patented 
by Frank Atkins. The plans, he says, are 
" in my mind's eye, Horatio." 

Speaking of cycling, Mr. Roberts is some- 
what of a cycler himself. He has been 
known to ride three " wheels " at one time. 

James O'Donnell thinks more of that 
medal of his, than he does of his best girl, 
and that is saying a good deal. 

With so large a number of wheelmen in 
our school, we should certainly have a 
good cycling c'ub. The advantages of a 
club are many. In the first place, 
it promotes closer friendship among the 
members. Then, certainly, a road run, 
participated in by thirty or forty members, 
would be far more enjoyable than the 
lonely runs of two or three. Do not de- 
lay. Organize at once. 


Wednesday is ladies' day at the courts. 

Geo. Lemcke has had his hair cut. That 
explains it all. 

Did anyone mention six dollars ? 

Jellefi and Hall will write a book, en- 
titled : " What we do not know about 
tennis." It will comprise many volumes. 

Rich. Reeves vs. Ray Barth — The long 
and short of it. 

The tennis grounds motto : " No work, 
no play." 

" Owings is in training." 

Billy Hall's ducks were the " Jonah " of 
the tournament. 

Our tennis grounds are the pride of the 
association and the envy of all the tennis 
clubs in the city. We were certainly very 
fortunate in securing such excellent 
grounds, and the boys should try to keep 
them in as good condition as possible. 

They have come to be used not only for 
tennis, but as a p'ace of practice for all ath- 
letics. On a pleasant evening, the passer- 
by sees an animated picture in the gayly 
attired tennis players, and the boys practic- 
ing hard at putting the shot, throwing 
the hammer, jumping, running and hurdle- 
racing, together with an occasional friendly 
wrestling match. Surely our school is 
coming to the front in athletics. 

^ J. 


If William Hall 
Once gets the ball, 
That's all. 

At all events, we shall certainly have a 
"good " captain. 

Stetson Parker will probably be " in the 
push '' next fall. 

A. Hugh Bryan will once more manage 
the team. 

0. M. I. found us so "easy." they want 
two games iiext season. Last year we got 
the worst of that big deal (Deal). 

Of all sports, foot ball is probably produc- 
tive of the greatest enthusiasm. Whether 
this is on account of the briskness of the 
weather in which it is played, or on account 
of the game itself, we do not know. How 
ever, we have good cause to be proud of 
our team. Of last season's two defeats, 
the one at 0. M. I. is accounted for by the 
fact that a professional, engaged by the 
school authorities for the purpose of train- 
ing the team, played with them. He, be- 
ing a man, easily outclassed our boys, and 
the defeat is not to be wondered at. The 
other, the first game at Edinburg early in 
the season, was due to lack of training and 
good team work. If the next year's team 
equals that of the last one, we shall have 
good reason to feel proud of it. We wish 
the boys the greatest success, 




All that we need is nine good players. 

Catherwood is an ardent admirer of base 

Rinehart will do, but we need a few 

The cause of our failure in base ball this 
year is attributed to the lack of talent. In 
a measure, this is correct; but certainly 
there is a great deal of latent talent, thus 
far hidden because of the lack of interest 
taken in base ball. If the boys had all 
played early in the season, the most able 
players could easily have been discovered. 
But since the boys did not practice, no one 
could possibly judge of their ability. Cer- 
tainly a school as large as ours, should 
have a team. Next season, let us all show 
an active interest, and. perhaps, we may 
organize a team that will be a credit to the 


Saturday, June 2, 1894. has come and 
gone, but the memory of that day's events 
will always remain fixed in the minds of 
all High School pupils. The grand suc- 
cess which attended our field day exceeded 
even the most extravagant hopes of the 
projectors of the enterprise. The erstwhile 
infant athletic association has now assumed 
manly proportions, and a handsome bal- 
ance will be left in the treasury for next 
year. Everything seemed to work for the 
success of the day, and even the weather 
was excellent The events went off 
smoothly and in order, and the eight hun- 
dred spectators were delighted. 

The gold medal for the jill-around cham- 
pion will be awarded -to Day Pattison, he 
having scored twenty-two points, and hav- 
ing the tennis singles yet to play. Stetson 
Parker and Walter Somerville are tie for 
second, with fifteen points each to their 
credit, with Townley a close fourth. The 
other prizes were won as follows: 

100 YARD DASU. Time, Hi sec. 

1st Prize. Pair Trousers Brink & Hohl 

2d Prize. Sweater Model Clothing Co. 

rist..... Day Pattison 

Winners < 2d..., Walter Somerville 

( 3d Clarence Stanley 


Distance, 16 ft. 3| in. 
1st Prize Silk Vesf, Kahn 'i'ailoring Co. 
2d Prize. Box Fanc}- Soap, 

By l^otter. Druggist 

[Ist R. Douglas 

AVinners \ 2d 0. Pickens 

{M M. Good 


(120 yds ) Time, 15| sec. 
1st Prizes. Bottles Perfume, 

By Huder k Bryan 
r 1st... Winters and Mothershead 

Winners •' 2d Good and Hall 

(3d Pattison and Somerville 

LUG 11 KICK. Height, 8 ft. 

1st Prize. Tan Shoes By C. Friedgen 

2d Prize. Picture By H. Lieber 

( 1st Frank Baker 

Winners < 2d M. Good 

I 3d C. Freeman 

SHIP. Time, 2 min. 39 sec. 
1st Prize. Gold Medal, 

By H. P. Wasson and I. H S. A. A. 
2d Prize. Pair Rat-Trap Pedals, 

By F. Clemmens & Co. 
3d Prize. Gold Pen, 

By llasselman Journal Co. 

( 1st .' M. Townley 

Winners \ 2d T. David 

(3d A. Craig 

Distance, 36 ft. Ih in. 
1st Prize. Rug, 

By Eastman, Schleicher & Lee 
2d Prize. Pair Shoes. ..By Geo J Marott 

( Ist S. Parker 

Winners { 2d F. Bnchtel 

I 3d A. Schleicher 

ONE MILE WALK. Time, 8 min. 59| sec. 
1st Prize. Pair Trousers. By G. W Manfeld 
2d Prize 100 Engraved Cards, 

By W. B Burford 

Mst M. Good 

Winners -< 2d M. Eckmau 

(3d R. liobbs 

Distance. 36 ft. 3J in. 

1st Prize Sweater By Progress 

2d Prize. Bamboo Fishing Pole, 

By Klingensmith 



rist F. Buchtel 

Winners < 2d R. Douglas 

(3d 0. Pickens 


(Handicap.) Time, 1 min 8| sec. 

1st Prize. Sweater By H. T. Hearsay 

2d Prize. Prince of India, 

By Bowen-Merrill Co. 

rist T. Darik (40 yds) 

Winners < 2d M. Townley (scratch) 

[m C. Freeman (20 yds) 

Distance, 9 ft. 8i in. 
1st Prize. Pair Trousers, 

By Plymoutli Rock Pants Co. 
2d Prize. Picture, by Cathcart & Cleland. 

[1st R. Douglas 

Winners ■{ 2d M. Lewis 

(3d C. Tucker 

120 YARDS HURDLE. Time, 20f sec. 

1st Prize. Hat W. D. Seaton 

2d Prize. Box Perfume, 

By H. C. Pomeroy. 

( 1st Day Pattison 

Winners < 2d W. Somerville 

(3d C. Tucker 


Distance, 79 ft. 7J in. 
1st Prize. Collar and Cuff Box, 

By Bargain Book Store. 

2d Prize. Pipe by C. F. Meyer & Son 

,,7-. fist S.Parker 

^^^^""^■«i2d F. Buchtel 

220 YARDS DASH. Time, 26| sec. 

1st Prize. Cane, by Major Taylor. 

2d Prize. Bottle Perfume, 

By Browning & Son. 

rist Day Pattison 

Winners -<^ 2d W. Somerville 

(3d W.Hall 

Ist Prize. Silk Hat, by Danbury Hat Co. 
2d Prize. Silk Vest... .' Original Eagle 

rist p. Marity 

Winners-^ 2d E. Rinehart 

(3d D. Pattison 


Time, 341 gee. 
1st Prize. Diamond Stud, 

By Ribble & Fisher. 


2d Prize. Bicycle Pump, 

By Hay & Willits. 

rist " J. Mahurin 

Winners 'I 2d M. Townley 

(3d T. David 

Height, 4 ft. 9 in. 

1st Prize. Hat by Dalton the Hatter 

2d Prize. Box Stationery, 

By Frank Smith. 

rist 0. Mothershead 

Winners ^ 2d M. Eckman 

(3d 0. Pickens 

ONE MILE RUN. Time, 6 min. Hi sec. 

1st Prize. Pair Running Shoes, 

By Geo. J. Marott. 

2d Prize. Plae of Gen. Grant, 

By Kipp Bros. 

„7. fist E. Rinehart 

Winners < ^ i t^ tit- j. 

I 2d Iv. Winters 


Distance, 319 ft. 8 in. 

1st Prize. Silk Vest by Swiggett Bros. 

2d Prize. Bottle Toilet Water^ 

By Geo. Sloan. 

rist '.....S. Parker 

Winners 2d E. Rinehart 

(3d J. Mahurin 


Time, 6 min. 9f sec. 
1st Prize. Laundry Bill for One Year, 

By Eclipse Laundry. 
2d Prize. Pair Bicycle Shoes, 

By Emerson Shoe Store. 

rist H. Duckwall (150 yds.) 

Winners { 2d M. Townley (scratch.) 

(3d W. Atkins (150 yds.) 


1st Prize. Duck Trousers. the When. 

2d Prize. Umbrellas, 

By P. Krauss and Wheldon. 

^Ttr- fist Somerville and Pattison 

Winners < „ i -d ^.i ^ t 1 

\ 2d Barth and Lemeke 


1st Prize. Tennis Racket. .bv Chas. Mayer 

2d Prize. Julius C. Walk & Son 

Not yet played. 

In the mile run, Owings, the favorite, 

was ruled out at the half on a foul. J. 

We publish no Names nor Testimonials. We 
make no assertions but what we fully sub= 

Rcinchilii'i-, that only one out of every fifty women, twenty-five years of age, pos- 
sessess pood hneltli, and one out of every twenty-five men. Every one sufferins from 
any disease of tlie eye, ear, nose, throat or lungs, nervous system, blood or skin, are 
invited to eall and see us and be convinced that we are prepared to treat the above 
diseases according to the very latest advancement in the science of medicine ai d 

Diseases Peculiar to Females — By our new Trench method all female com- 
plaints and irregularities are successfully treated without sub.iecting the patient to 
the unpleasant treatment still in vogue by those less informed. 

We also have the largest private laboratory in the State, which we invite any 
phy-ician or educated chemist to inspect. We have on record over 25,0i cures and 
18,000 unsolicited testimonials. Use your own brains ; depend upon your own good 
sense, and seek a cure from the same source from which so many others have been 
restored. Your disease diagnosed without asking a question. 

Consultation in English and (lerma.n free. 

A. S. BRUBAKER, A. M., M. D., J 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 FAIR BLOCK. 
Opp. New Union Station, 

IMionapolis, Ind. 

{o§e PolytecliniG Institute 


A Coffeoe of EnoineerinQ, 

Offers a broad, technical education, based on 
Mathematics, Mechanics, Physics, Chemistry, 
Drawing and Modern Languages, with thorough 
instruction in the field, laboratory and shop, as well 
as in the lecture and recitation room, in the princi- 
ples and practice of Mechanical, Electrical and 
Civil Engineering, and Chemistry. 

The laboratory connected with these four de- 
partments of instruction have a large and growing 
accumulation of appliances and apparatus, which, 
together with extensive and well-equipped shops 
for practice in machine and wood work, forging, 
moulding and casting, afford quite unusual facili- 
ties for a thoroughly modern education. Course, 
four years, of three terras each. E.xpenses low. 

"■"ASSsi'sr: H. T. Eddy, 




The H. Lieber Company's 


Works of Art, Engravings, Etchings, 
Paintings, Pictures for House and 
School Decoration - 

Drawiog Materials, 

er's Supplies, 

Tort Store 


Vacation Dresses 

For the Girls. 

Vacation Suits 

For the Boys. 

All that Girls ami Boys need in the way of Dress 
we keep. It"s easier to save money than you 
would think. Try it. 


109 and 111 South Illinois St. 

Large assortment of SILKS, LANSDOWNS and GLO- 
RIOSOS, in shades suitable for graduation. 



Bits of Unwritten History — page. 

I. Concerning our High School 2 

II. Concerning the Soldiers' Monument 3 

Morning 4 

Some Common Omens 4 

Every-Day Socials 6 

Loyalty to our School 7 


"Moscow, Holy Moscow" ...'... 12 

Hypatia and the Monks 15 

The Industrial Training School 16 

Chaucerian 17 

Metrical Translation 18 

My Study of Tennyson 18 

A Legend of Mt. Desert 19 

The Faculty 24 

Utility of Art . 25 

Flower Fancies of a Child 26 

Favorite Books of the Faculty 28 

To the Land of the Midnight Sun 28 

Experiences in an English School 31 

Conundrums from Holmes 32 

Niagara Chained 33 

A Sketch from Nature 33 

Hawthorne's Idea of the Mission of the Poet 34 

The Solitary Survivor 34 

The Beautiful as an Element of Euskin's Style 37 

Spirits that Walk the Streets 38 

Notes on Mathematics . 40 

A Scene on Eagle Creek '. 40 

Ruminations 41 

"A Perfect Day" 41 

Summer Twilight 42 

Alumni Department 43-51 

Definitions of a Gentleman 51 

Lists of Classes— 1895 52 

Class Songs 62 

Athletics 53-56 

The Unforeseen— A Little of It 57 

Prophecy of June Class, 1895 58 

If One Only Knew 59 

Advertisements 60-63 


The High School Annual 

Let knowledge grow from more to more.' 

Vol. I. No. 2. 


June, 1895. 



BOUT half a century ago, one 
of the wealthiest and most 
beloved of Indianapolis' citi- 
zens was an old Quaker man- 
ufacturer. He owned an ex- 
tensive piece of I and, on which 
he had often shot wild turkey 
and other game. The place 
was covered with beautiful forest trees, and 
rabbits and squirrels frisked in and out 
among the bare, gray tree-trunks and fallen 
leaves. They were happy in the enjoyment 
of the present, and little knew that soon 
their peaceful leafy haunts would resound 
to the stroke of the hammer and the grind- 
ing of the saw, and that they would be 
driven from their home to seek another 
amid " wilder scenes of sylvan solitude." 

The old merchant had often looked at 
his property, and thought what a fine loca- 
tion it was for a family home; so one day 
the squirrels' retreat was disturbed by the 

noise of carpenters, the serene solitude was 
broken, and the abode of I^ature's pets was 
sacrificed to the will of man. The north 
part of the lot was given up to a fine 
orchard ; the eastern portion to pasture 
land; and, on the southwest corner, was 
erected one of the finest Quaker home- 
steads ever built in Indiana. 

The house was a square red brick, built 
in the latest style of that day; it was sur- 
rounded by sloping lawns and luxuriant 
flower beds, and overshadowed by huge 
elms and maples The outside appearance 
was not marked by any show of wealth, but 
everything was plain, simple, and, above all, 

Inside, the twenty or more rooms were 
large, airy, and lofty. A hall ten feet wide 
extended from the front entrance to the 
rear of the house. Everything was fur- 
nished m exquisite taste, and the massive 
walnut and mahogany chairs and tables 
gave an air of reflnement and luxurious 
repose. But, perhaps, the most interesting 
feature of all was the old-fashioned kitchen 
arranged with every convenience known 


in that day. One whole side of the room 
was given up to the chimney, with its huge 
Dutch oven and open fire-place. Over in 
a corner under the floor was an immense 
cistern, into which the cook constantly 
threatened to fling the Quaker's mischiev- 
ous daughter, when the little maid would 
persist in getting in her way while she was 
preparing a dinner. 

Now, this kind old gentleman, being the 
most influential Quaker in the State, was 
accustomed to entertain all traveling 
friends at his mansion, and many were the 
times when the inmates of the house were 
aroused from their slumbers to welcome 
some stranger guest. Not only was this 
house the stopping place of many travelers, 
but many festivities were held there. It 
was the scene of gatherings of all kinds; 
first a grand dinner, then a tea or lawn 
party, and next some holiday celebration. 
On such an occasion as the last named, 
lanterns would be hung on all the trees, and 
the grounds brilliantly lighted. Then what 
a pretty drama was unconsciously enacted 
by the participants ! Children romped in 
and out among the trees and shrubbery 
playing an exciting game of hide-and-seek ; 
young men and maidens strolled leisurely 
round the grounds, while their elders spent 
their time quietly conversing on the broad 
old-fashioned veranda. 

But, alas! this could not always last; 
time wrought his customary change, the 
daughters were married and the happy fam- 
ily circle was broken. The old homestead 
passed into the hands of the Baptists and 
was used by them as a seminary for young 
ladies. It was the scene of many youth- 
ful trials and struggles with French and 
Latin. In the different class-rooms could 
be heard the sound of the school-girls re- 
citing in fear and trembling, " amo, amas, 
amat," or "Omnis Gallia est divisa in partes 

tres." On the windows of the dormitory 
could be seen engraved the initials of for- 
lorn maidens who would not, or could not 
study, and consequently were expelled from 
the class. And in these same rooms, what 
little feasts of smuggled dainties were held 
behind bolted doors with stopped-up key- 
holes ! 

This state of afl'airs lasted about five 
years, and then the estate was bought bj" 
the city. Meanwhile, the north and east 
parts of the land had been sold to different 
individuals so that the estate, at that time, 
comprised only the house and the land imme- 
diately surrounding it. The city converted 
the building, with an addition to the north, 
into a High School, and such it remained 
until 1884, when it was torn down and on 
its site was erected the present High 

In this building as in the old, pupils are 
heard declining Latin nouns and conjugat- 
ing verbs. In one room, they are laboring 
over the Pythagorean proposition ; in an- 
other, the Constitution of the United States 
is being recited from memory. In a third, 
nothing is audible save the ticking of the 
clock and scratching of pens ; the night- 
mare of some wayward pupil's dream is a 
reality ; these boys and girls, with eyes 
fastened on the papers before them and 
with fingers working as if their owners' 
very lives were at stake, are taking a test. 
In still another room, are the students of 
art, while just across the hall, are those of 
science. Here, each one is endeavoring to 
finish some drawing, and there, each is 
hastening to complete an experiment in 
chemistry; but while they work so ear- 
nestly the merciless bell rings and the morn- 
ing session is ended. As we have peeped 
into almost every room we emerge from 
the building and leave it to its noonday 
rest, when nought can be heard save an 


occasional murmur of a deep, Bonorous 
voice which may be that of Mr. Biddy, the 
janitor, or of the ghost of the good okl 
Quaker gentleman, wandering disconso- 
lately midst the scenes of his earthly home. 
Grace F. Gookin, '97. 


"A tliousand fantasies 
Begin to throng inj' memory, 
Of calling shadows and beckoning shapes, 
For spirits freed from mortal laws assume what shapes 

they please 
And hover in the air." 

While passing through the western part 
of Indianapolis, I wonder if the scene has 
always been like this. A mist passes be- 
fore my eyes. I see no more the broad 
streets and avenues, with their places of 
business and peaceful homes nestling among 
the trees, but am within a broad inelosure 
which is dotted with many tents. The 
stars and stripes flaunt in the air, and to 
the ear is borne the sound of tramping 
feet, marching with measured tread. 
Dressed in Union blue are men in regi- 
ments, in companies, in squads, in files, in 
long lines, marching and countermarching, 
and learning how to fight a battle. Pro- 
vision wagons hurry hither and thither, 
while after them comes the heavy rumble 
and roar of the artillery carnages. I pass 
up the company streets, hear hurried talk- 
ing and cries of " On to Richmond," which 
make me realize that these are the days of 
the civil war. The confusion becomes less 
marked, and long, orderly columns pass 
out of the camp. Drawn by some inex- 
plicable power, I follow them On every 
side are war scenes. Business is forgotten. 
Merchants, lawyers, wives, mothers and 
children throng the streets and cheer the 
marching ranks. The State House is 

reached, and that old Doric structure stands 
in broad relief. How many like scenes 
has it witnessed ! How its walls have 
rung with patriotic speeches! But a hush 
has fallen upon the scene ; the merry laugh 
and jest have ceased; children bid farewell 
to their fathers without realizing the part- 
ing; mothers kiss their boys good-bye and 
part from them with quivering lip ; the 
beloved Governor says good-bye, and they 
are gone — to fight their country's battles. 
Again I see marching ranks. Many are 
missing from their accustomed place. In- 
stead of ruddy faces, are bronzed cheeks, 
faded uniforms, and battle-rent flags; yet 
they come with victory. Then the vision 
wanes and before me in broad reality' stands 
a noble monument, reared to "Indiana's si- 
lent victors," soldiers who have gone to 
their last roll-call. 

Looking to the southward is a statue of 
Governor Morton, watching the sleep of 
his brave soldiers who lie beneath Southern 
soil. But to keep their memory green no 
monument is needed; for the privations 
they suftered, the danger they endured will 
live forever young in the breast of "Young 

Dan Brown, '96. 

The very flowers that bend and meet, 
In sweetening others, grow move sweet. 

O. W. Holmes. 

What as Beauty here is won. 

We shall as Truth in some hereafter know. 


Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, 
These three alone lead life to sovereign power. 


Better to have the poet's heart than brain, 
Feeling than song, but better far than both, 
To be a song, a music of God's making. 

George McDonald. 

Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop 
than when we soar. Wordsworth. 



The Sun was asleep. 
In the earth above 
Eeigned the Gods of Night. 
The stars still shone, 
The moon rode on, 
But still slept the Sun. 

The Dawn crept to him, 
" It is time for day. 
Rouse thee, O strong one." 
He opened his eyes 
And the light of the glance 
Shot up above. 

As he lay on his couch, 
'Neath the horizon's ring. 
The light of his eyes 
Streaked the eastern skies. 
And the watchers said, 
" The day draws nigh." 

He rose ; from his locks 
A radiance streamed, 
And the light thereof 
Flooded the land. 
The stars sped away ; 
The moon hid herself. 

In his chariot mighty 

He drove to the skies. 

The people on earth 

Cried, "The sun! all hail!" 

Bowing, they worshiped, 

And it was day. 

Mabel Martin Hopkins, '97 


EOT long ago, I made a short visit to a 
gentleman, and as lie lived in a part 
of town only slightly known to me, his 
son, a boy of thirteen, guided me to tlie 

Soon after we started, the boy halted, 
turned round and stood staring a hay- 
wagon quite out of countenance. When I 
asked him the reason, he said that if you 
wished on a load of hay and then did not 
look at it again, 3'our wish would come 

Presently a span of white horses passed 

us, and Avithout any warning my guide 
licked two lingers of his right hand, 
slapped them on the palm of his left, and 
then patted the wet spot with his right 
fist. When I inquired the reason for this 
performance, he said that when he had 
counted a hundred white horses and used 
the magic motions, he should get any wish 
he might make. The trouble, he said, was 
to stop when you had counted just a hun- 
dred, for a wish made before or after would 
spoil it all. "You might," he said, "instead 
of wishing, walk around the square when 
yon counted the hundredth horse and you 
would be sure to find something of value." 
In the course of the conversation, I received 
the following "sure" rule for finding any- 
thing lost. Take a red clover head, run a 
straw through it and throw the contrivance 
into the air while facing the sun. The 
straw will always fall in the direction of the 
lost top or ball. The small boy informed 
me that this was the way his mother always 
found the lost clothes pins. 

The first question I heard the mother ask 
when I entered the house was: "Who 
dropped the fork ?" — as if it were absolutely 
necessary for the coming of a guest to be 
foretold in this way. 

I was invited to dinner and was glad to 
accept the invitation, although I saw that 
all my actions would be turned into omens. 
One of the children spilled the salt during 
the meal, and the mother called out dis- 
tractedly : "Throw some over your left 
shoulder!" The eldest sister insisted that 
it should be thrown over the right shoulder, 
but the young Alexander cut the Gordian 
knot by throwing some over each shoulder 
and picking up with his knife the little that 

The family actually quarreled for the last 
piece of bread on the plate, as it was sup- 
posed to bring the eater a handsome wife 


or husband, as the case might be, and ten 
thousand dollars a year. The sum was 
changed (for the better) at each meal. My 
young guide of the morning got the last 
piece twice and said I could have the hand- 
some wives, as I was his mascot. I asked 
him why, and he said that a guest sitting 
at his right hand at the table brought him 
good luck for three days afterwards. 

The meal over, I arose with the rest, but 
had the misfortune to leave my chair stand- 
ing out from the table. To m}^ surprise I 
was told that when I broke a bone (I was 
assured that this would happen) I would 
have the sympathy of the family. I have 
not broken the bone. 

Perceiving that my friends were in the 
possession of an almost endless knowledge 
of signs and superstitions, and feeling the 
disgrace of my own ignorance upon the 
subject, I begged them to lend me of their 
information and to attend to that part of 
my education which had been so sadly 
neglected. With astonishing alacrity, they 
hastened to my assistance, and a whole 
torrent of omens and dire predictions swept 
down upon me. 

I was assured that if my ears should burn 
I was undoubtedly the subject of some one's 
conversation ; if my right eye should itch I 
would cry, if my left I would laugh ; or, if 
my nose should be the offending organ I 
would most certainly receive a visitor. 
Should I be so unfortunate as to stub my 
poor, unhappy toe some dire misfortune 
would be mine. Indeed it was nearly 
always a misfortune that was predicted 
and the various omens that I was told were 
the forerunners of death seemed to have 
no limit. 

Such I was convinced would be the re- 
sult if thirteen unfortunate mortals should 
dine at the same table ; if a dog should 

bark or a cat should mew in the dark 
watches of the night; if one should dream 
of wading through muddy water; if he 
should dare to be so rash as to carry a 
shovel through the house, or so unlucky 
as to break a mirror. I felt a thrill of 
terror and a feeling of conscious guilt on 
hearing the latter, as I immediately 
thought of the small looking-glass con- 
cealed in my pocket which was the object 
of my not unfrequent but stealthy glances. 

I was amazed to find that the actions of 
a cat (an animal which, alas! I had never 
regarded with any liking and but little re- 
spect) could become so important a feature 
in our destinies. Should a black cat run 
across my path had luck was sure to follow, 
should a stra}' animal of that species chance 
to seek shelter under my roof and I prove 
a Avelcome host a happy fate was mine ; but 
to change my residence and carry with me 
such an animal would be to call down on 
my head untOAvard calamities. 

Bad luck would most surely overtake 
the youth who should chance to walk 
under a ladder or over a cellar door; who 
should dare to shut an open gate; or who, 
having once started from home, should re- 
turn to find something which lie had at 
first forgotten. To begin an undertaking 
on Friday was to insure its failure in the 
outset ; while to tell a dream before break- 
fast was as certain to secure its fulfillment. 
By some strange association of incongru- 
ities beyond my power of understanding, 
to dream of a death was the sure sign of a 
wedding. If you stumble on ascending 
the stair, you will receive a letter, and if 
your hand itches you will receive money 
or greet a stranger. 

Much of the information I received from 
my friends was of peculiar interest to girls. 
The daughter of my hostess assured me 



that she never combed her hair after dark, 
for she was convinced of the truth of the 
couplet : 

"Comb j'our hair after dark 
You comb sorrow to your heart." 

She also told me that it was very advan- 
tageous to trim one's "bangs" on the first 
Friday of the new moon. If the hem of 
her dress should chance to turn up, she 
would soon have a new sweetheart, and 
the longer it stayed in that position, the 
longer he would be true to her. I was told 
that a girl was always delighted to find 
one of lier hairpins falling out, for that 
was a sure sign "he" was thinking of her. 
Should she be so fortunate as to find a 
four-leaf clover and put it in her shoe, the 
next gentleman to whom she spoke was to 
be her future lord and master. 

I was soon convinced that a ring aroiind 
the moon foretold rain, while to look at 
the new moon over the left shoulder was a 
sign of bad luck; that, should I sing be- 
fore breakfast, I Avould cry before night ; 
that the scratch of a pin foretold a journey ; 
that the loaning of scissors or any pointed 
instrument would be sure to cut the friend- 
ship of both parties ; and that to find a 
horseshoe, or a pin with the point toward 
one, was a sign of good fortune. 

I left ni}^ friends feeling much the wiser 
for m}' visit. Should any one desire to 
secure information on this subject of so 
vital importance, I shall take great pleasure 
in directing him to those who seem fully 
competent to enlighten him. '95. 


THE bell rings! Arise, ye favored ones 
of our blessed Alma Mater. Take up 
your books, and awaken your senses, and 
compose your wandering thoughts for the 
duty, trial, or delight, as the case may be. 

Who can fathom the mystery of the 
beaming expression that spreads its conta- 
gion like a prairie fire? Surely some oc- 
cult agency underlies the general trans- 
formation, for the repose of the past fifteen 
minutes of study has suddenly vanished, 
leaving in its stead a stir and bustle of ex- 
citement. Physiognomies a moment be- 
fore blank, as far as concerned one's abil- 
ity to read them, now speak volumes. A 
stranger happening to bestow a passing 
glance upon the scene would commune 
with himself in this wise: "A model 
school ! A paragon of its kind ! I am 
glad to live in this enlightened epoch, when 
pupils evince such eagerness and pleasant 
anticipation at a summons that formerly 
struck fear and trembling into the heart of 
the average school bo3^" But we of the 
initiated might afford some further inform- 
ation as to the cause thereof, in addition to 
the surmise of the visitor. Between the 
assembly room and the place of recitation, 
occurs one of the pleasantest features of our 
school life — the daily interchange of greet- 
ings and brief talks We are assailed with 
such queries as : " Did you hear that 
promising orator in the last debate ?" " I 
just can't solve the second proposition, and 
we will certainly have it in the next 
exam !" Then, on rare occasions, our clas- 
sic halls are polluted with such frivolities 
as: "A trade-last; you first!" But the 
exceptions are so few as not to low. r the 
standard in any perceptible degree. 

So long as the social atmosphere of our 
halls continues as piire and high-toned as it 
always has been and is now maintained, 
let us all join in wishing "Success to the 
every-day socials !" 

Tryphena Mitchell, '95. 

Poets are all who love, — who feel great 
truths, and tell them. Bailey. 



I ANY times we hear the remark of 
elder persons that their school days 
were not for them their happiest ones, nor 
the school room, as it is said to he, the hap- 
piest place of all. 

It is clear that something was wrong 
either in the school or in themselves that 
made it so, and in some cases, considering 
the inferiority of those schools to ours of 
to day, there is no douht that the schools 
were to blame. But it seems more probable 
and natural that the fault lay mainly in 

In every community, there are persons 
indifferent to all else but their particular 
hobby, or their personal interests. 

All those qualities that constitute and 
distinguish the citizen, justice, honesty, and 
patriotism are utterly neglected because of 
this indifference. The result is that his 
soul becomes so dead that he is virtually "a 
man without a country." 

In sharp contrast to him stands the true 
citizen, the man of energy who is interested 
in the welfare of his country, one who would 
do and dare anything that his nation might 

live. What is true of a nation is true of 
her representative institutions, her schools. 

We see in every class organized in our 
own High School these same classes of 
people, those blind to all its interests and 
those loyal and public spirited, ready to 
assume any duty devolving upon them. 
These feelings of loyalty, inherent in us, 
will manifest themselves in some form, as 
is shown by the gifts of former classes to 
the High School for the benefit and educa- 
tion of future ones. But this quality of 
indifference, if allowed to have full sway, 
will destroy the feelings of love and remem- 
brance one naturally cherishes for his Alma 
Mater after leaving it. 

We derive pleasure and benefit in pro- 
portion to the energy and interest spent in 
obtaining it; for we give to the event the 
joy the event imparts to us. 

So, as there is everything to be gained 
and nothing to be lost in being loyal to 
our own school, we should enter with alac- 
rity and eagerness into all things that will 
promote and advance its prosperity and 
reputation, and thus make it the equal, if 
not the superior, of any in the land. 

Ernbst Talbert, "97. 



Published each June, in the interests of the Indi 

anapolis High School, by the members 

of the Senior Classes. 


WpK 'QE .(Kate P.Smith. -r ,„- f Susie M.C 

J<eb., 95. ^ Ralph H. Helm. ''""''' ^°'1 Parker Hi 



' Be noble! and the nobleness that li-S 
In other men, sleeping and never dead, 
Will rise in m^ijesty to meet thine own." 

It is with conflicting emotions of hope 
and fear that we are now about to launch 
on its career the High School Annual for 
1895 : hope that it may meet with the 
approval of the school whose work we 
have endeavored to faithfully represent; 
fear lest it may not satisfy the expectations 
of some of our ambitious readers. We 
could scarcely hope to publish an Annual 
superior to that of last year, but we have 
earnestly sought to maintain in this year's 
magazine, the high standard which it estab- 
lished as a precedent. 

We feel assured, by the ready support 
which we have received from the school 
and the prompt responses to our request 
for contributions, that the value of an An- 
nual is fully appreciated. By its publica- 
tion, the interest of the public in the school 
is stimulated, and they receive an insight 
into the character of the work and the 
ability of the pupils. In every enterprise 
of this nature, requiring the united effort 
of the school, its members come into a 
closer touch, feel a warmer sympathy, and 
a fresh pride in the institution whose 
standing is, in a measure, determined by 

We wish to extend our thanks to those 
who have co-operated Avith us in the 
preparation of the Annual which we now 
present to you, hoping that you ma}^ 

" Be to her virtues very kind, 
And to lier faults a little blind." 

K. S. 

In their literary inheritance, the readers 
of the English language are the richest 
people that the sun shines upon. His- 
tory has been transformed within a hun- 
dred years in Germany; within sixty years 
in France, and that by the study of their 
literatures. Charles Lamb has said, "Litera- 
ture is a very bad crutch, but a very good 
walking stick." What would an institu- 
tion be without the literature which has 
always constituted one of the largest and 
perhaps the most important branch of edu- 
cation ? 

Every institution of learning at the pres- 
ent day is distinguished by one or more 
periodicals representing its various depart- 
ments. The literary spirit which has al- 
ways manifested itself in the High School 
has increased during the past few years, 
until now the numerous publications form 
one of the most pleasant features of the 
school course. The students who are pro- 
gressive and ambitious for the broadest 
and most liberal education are practically 
represented in these different magazines. 
The debating club edits a small paper ex- 
hibiting the work done in that society 
alone. Under Miss Dye's instruction, the 
" Dawn " has appeared, whose pages are 
particularly devoted to the interests of the 
second year work in English. The class 
of '96 is represented by the " Minutes," 
a small pamphlet, which has been pub- 
lished this year. The Industrial School 
has recently circulated " Mind and Hand," 
in which all departments are skillfully 
introduced. These periodicals, together 
with the Annual, whose merits it is 
needless to mention, prove the truth of 
Emerson's saying : " Men give a reputation 
to literature, and convince the world of its 

The growth of the literary spirit is not 
noticeable in the students alone, for the lit- 



erary world has been enriched by the pro 
ductions of several of our teachers. Mrs. 
Huilord has published a book of "Selections 
from Ruskin," with introductory interpre- 
tations and annotations, in which she has 
admirably set forth the characteristics 
of Ruskin's literary style, his theory of 
life and art, and given a sketch of his 
own life showing what influences aided 
in the formation of his character. Mr. 
King has contributed a very creditable 
work on School Interests and Duties, and 
Mr. Crowell and Mr. Benton have prepared 
small text-books as laboratory guides. 

Judging the future by the present, we 
predict for the High School such attain- 
ments in the literary Held as have seldom 
been reached in any school. 

S. C. 

As THE young college graduate departs 
from the halls of his Alma Mater with his 
diploma in his pocket and a feeling in his 
heart half triumph, half regret,- among 
other happy recollections he carries away 
the memory of some room whose every ap- 
pointment is as dear to him as it is familiar. 
For many years, he will remember the 
noble busts of famous men which graced 
the walls of his class-room, and whose eyes 
were wont to fix themselves upon him in a 
glaring stare of disapproval as he listened 
with a quaking heart to a question which 
was to him a riddle, albeit a riddle which a 
knowledge of his lesson might have solved. 
He will not easily forget the fine pictures 
that added so much to the cultured, 
scholarly atmosphere of the college library, 
where, seized with a fit of remorse and 
desperation, he "crammed" for an ex- 
amination. The cabinets containing many 
valuable curiosities whose accumulation 
has been the work of many years, and 
various other old associations, all will long 

remain in his memory and he will scarcely 
realize the extent of the influence their 
silent power has exerted. 

It has only been graduates of the most 
recent classes of our Pligh School who 
could carry away anything resembling even 
a shadow of such a recollection. This 
we think is a fact much to be regretted. 
Certainly a fine bust, noble statue, or 
beautiful picture cannot of themselves 
give the most aspiring student a knowl- 
edge of books, neither are they an abso- 
lute necessity to the acquisition of a good, 
substantial education. But it is not to be 
denied that they have an influence, and an 
influence not to be lightly disregarded. 
They have a refining power as sure as it is 
subtle. A stranger accustomed to such 
associations will instantly feel their loss on 
entering a school in whose halls and cor- 
ridors he finds no statue, bust or cabinet, 
and from whose glaring white-washed 
walls, he does not meet the kindly glance 
of some familiar face. 

It is with great pleasure that we find 
the present members of the school awaken- 
ing to a sense of the importance of such 
surroundings. Much has been done by 
the students in the past year to relieve 
the somewhat barren aspect of our halls 
and class-rooms. Let us hope that their 
exertions will awaken a similar interest in 
those higher in authority, and that the day 
is not far distant when we may be proud 
of the many works of art to be found in 
our Higli School. K. S. 

The fields and forests are the true text- 
books of l>otany and geology, and here the 
student must go if be really wishes to 
understand these subjects. Mr. Martin, 
our natural science teacher, recognizes this 
fact, and each term tries to make several 
trips to the country. Last autumn several 



pleasant jaunts were made in the vicinity 
of Indianapolis, and a day was well spent 
by fifty-six of the members of the classes, 
together with several of the teachers, at 
Crawfordsville. In the morning, the world- 
famous crinoid-beds were visited and many 
interesting specimens of these " lilies of 
the sea," now turned to stone, were found. 
Many other things were seen which were 
instructive and interesting, geologically. 
The botanists also collected many speci- 
mens, among which were two "giant puif- 
balls " about a foot in diameter. The 
afternoon was profitably spent in visiting 
Wabash College, which has a very fine 
scientific museum. This term several 
walks in our locality will be taken and the 
" Shades of Death " will be visited about 
the last of May. 

It should be arranged that a certain 
part of the time of the natural science 
classes be given each term to this outdoor 
work, for it is more beneficial than class- 
room study. In many of the schools of 
Europe, at least a week is given for an out- 
door study journey each term. R. H. 

People who are in no position to judge 
have been known to say that the oppor- 
tunities for study atiforded the student by 
the Indianapolis High School are not such 
as will enable him to pass the entrance ex- 
aminations of many of the Eastern col- 
leges. There is danger that their ignorance 
as to the truth of the case may become 
misleading to othcs, who will conclude 
that, in order to prepare for college, it is es- 
sential to attend some institution especially 
designed for that purpose. There are few, 
if any. Western colleges which do not ad- 
mit as Freshmen, sometimes as Sopho- 
mores, a student who has completed the 
course of study requisite for graduation in 
our high school. For some of the Eastern 

colleges our ordinary course of study is 
not suificient for entrance, but if the stu- 
dent early in his high school course deter- 
mines what college he desires to attend, 
he can readily arrange his work according 
to the demands of that school, and there 
are few institutions whose course is such 
that he will be obliged to seek private in- 
struction in any subject. The past record 
of several graduates who have gone di- 
rectly from our high school to take their 
places in the Freshman class of an Eastern 
college will be sufiBcieut to prove its com- 
petency as a preparatory school for such 
institutions. K. S. 

Our school flag lies, dust-covered, in the 
closet, when it should be at the top of the 
staff every day. The grammar schools 
raise their flags at eight o'clock and they 
wave until four o'clock in the afternoon as 
symbols of liberty and peace Our flag is 
raised, if the weather is good, twice or 
three times a year, on Washington's Birth- 
day, Decoration Day and perhaps on the 
Fourth of July. It should be raised every 
day, to fly from sunrise to sunset over our 
heads. The American flag we can look 
at every day and never tire of it. 

Give us a chance to see it flying over 
our building, not when we are not there, 
but every day. P. H. 

The " Masque of Comus," which was 
presented just before the winter holidays 
by the now graduated class of February, 
1895, is one of Milton's minor masterpieces, 
and considered by many as one of the 
brightest and most delicate bits of litera- 
ture in the English language. Its beautiful 
lines, its noble thoughts, and the scene of 
action being laid in the forest dusk, to- 
gether with the simple yet interesting plot 
of the guileful Comus, make it one of the 
most delightful pieces to present. 



The original idea of the class was simply 
to present this short play, or masque, as 
it was then called, in such a way that its 
merits as a piece of literature might be 
brought forth, with no further effort to- 
wards a dramatic attempt than that the 
lines be intelligently and distinctly ren- 
dered. The idea, however, grew unawares, 
and when presented, it had all the essentials 
of a dramatic performance. J^fot only were 
the lines, many of which are more difficult 
to give correctly than Shakespeare's, well 
rendered, but much action was introduced 
by the characters, who wore the quaint 
costumes of Milton's time. With the help 
of the stereopticon, several forest scenes 
were thrown upon the screen at the back 
of the stage, and the semi-darkness needed 
to produce them gave the effect of twilight, 
at which time the scene is represented by 
Milton as taking place. 

The idea of presenting dramatic litera- 
ture as a true dramatic performance is 
quite new in our High School, and as 
the "Masque of Comus" was successful, 
knowing the value of amateur dramatics, 
we hope other classes will follow, though 
until our hall, is remodeled, very little in 
this line can be done satisfactorily. 

E. H. 

The proceeds of the performance of the 
" Masque of Comus " were applied by the 
February class to the purchase of three 
pictures; two high class etchings — Canter- 
bury Cathedral and the Canterbury Pil- 
grimage, and a rare copperplate engraving 
of Chaucer "imprinted" in London in 
1754. These pictures were formally pre- 
sented to tlie school at a class social held in 
the school hall on Washington's Birthday. 

More time is being devoted to music 
in the school this year than ever before. 
Prior to Mr. Loomis's death, a number 
of years ago, some time was given to 
the chorus singing, but no teacher has 
received such hearty coopei'ation on the 
part of the students as has Mrs. Wilkinson. 

The male chorus, which is composed of 
about twenty members, is progressing rap- 
idly under her leadership, and certainly no 
one could l)e a more competent instructor. 
The shining lights from the jS^ormal School 
are showing marked ability in this direc- 
tion. The faculty may congratulate them- 
selves on securing the services of so gifted 

a person as Mrs. Wilkinson. 

S. C. 




Indianapolis, Nov. 4, 1894. 

My Dear M : 

"Darkest Russia," did you say? Gladly 
will I tell you some of our Russian 
experience — and O, how I wish we could 
pack up our kodaks, red Baedekers and 
note books, and go back again with you 
to that queer, tierce old country. May you 
have as exciting a time with your camera 
as we did with ours. Russian officials, for 
some reason, can't seem to appreciate that 
convenient invention peculiar to the Amer- 
ican tourist, called a kodak. 

Perhaps you will have the good fortune 
to see the young Czar. The late Emperor 
was not in St. Petersburg during our visit, 
so we did not see him. If you notice, in all 
pictures, he towers over every one In the 
Imperial Palace, at Moscow, as you ascend 
the grand staircase, you see at the top a 
huge picture of Alexander and his family 
passing between rows of soldiery, tlie Em- 
peror being the central and most imposing 
figure. At first, the frame is not visible, 
and you are startled by what seems to be 
the imperial family itself coming toward 
you, about to step down the staircase. 

Alexander II L had a kinder nature than 
most people gave him credit for. The 
pastor of the Protestant church in St. 
Petersburg, who was a great help ofiicially, 
procured for us permission to inspect the 
Czar's yacht, "Polar Star," then building in 
St. Petersburg's docks. The bead workman 
was a Scotchman. While Alexander conld 
not trust one of his own people to oversee 
the work, he was not forgetful of them on 
that account, for comfortable quarters were 
provided for the meanest sailor and cabin 
boy — more comfortable than can be seen on 
some American vessels. It was pleasing to 

note, also, that the principal wood used in 
the Czar's apartments was American maple. 

Another good friend in St. Petersburg 
was Charles Emory Smith, then American 
Minister to Russia. The Winter Palace, 
usually open to tourists, was closed for re- 
pairs just at that time. Mr. Smith tried to 
procure us admission, but not even his in- 
fluence proved an " open sesame " to the 
enchanted palace. This was disappointing, 
but the imperial residences at Moscow and 
Peterhof made up for it. 

Russian state apartments are marvels ot 
costliness. They will remind you of the 
fairy tales we used to revel in. Such shining 
floors of marble or polished hardwood; 
such vast mirrors and glittering chandeliers; 
such carved furniture, upholstered in laces 
and satins; tables ot marble, malachite, or 
lapislazuli,inlaid with crystals, rare mosaics, 
or sometimes, precious stones. 

During the Russian famine, one could not 
but remember the wealth lying useless in 
a certain room of the treasury adjoining 
this palace. This room contains the costly 
playthings of generations of Russia's rulers; 
vestments of priests and emperors, robes of 
silk and fur, stift' with gold thread and 
gems ; the last Czarina's coronation robe of 
ermine and silver gauze, with a long train 
which must have made her royal shoulders 
ache ; the crowns of not only many rulers of 
Russia proper, but of those other provinces, 
and the royal diadem of unhappy Poland; 
the throne of Tsar Alexis, which contains, 
by way of ornamentation, 876 diamonds 
and 1,223 rubies; also the ivory throne of 
Tsar Ivan the Terrible, studded with over 
8,000 turquoises. If you don't believe these 
figures, you can amuse yourself counting 
the stones after you get there. 

In sad contrast to these splendid things, 
is the modest coupe of Alexander II, out 
of which stepped that liberal and kindly 




emperor to inquire for a wounded servant — 
only to be killed by the explosion of a Ni- 
hilist bomb. On the spot M^here he fell, is 
now a memorial church. 

Speaking of churches, they are the most 
noticeable feature of Moscow. That quaint 
old city is full of them — they confront one 
at every turn. Hence the proudly bestowed 
epithet, " Holy Moscow." As a rule, these 
churches are painted white, but they may be 
of almost any color Each has several towers 
or belfries, capped with domes of gold or 
silver, or some bright hue, and studded 
with gilt stars. A gold cross and crescent 
fastened down with gilt chains, crowns the 
pinnacle of each dome. 

The Cathedral of Vasill Blagennoi (St 
Basil the Beatified) is nothing more nor 
less than eleven circular or octagonal 
chapels, connected by intricate passages 
Over each chapel, rises a huge conical 
tower, most fantastic in design. The pre- 
vailing shape of ihe domes on these towers 
is that of a pineapple or [)ear, but each is 
totally different fro'ii the rest in pattern. 
One is green, ribbed with yellow; another 
has spirals of blue and red ; a third, squares 
and triangles of half a dozvn colors inter- 
mingled; and so it goes, until the eye is 
bewildered by the mazes of color and de- 
sign This novel structure was bnilt for 
Tsar Ivan the Terrible, who, on its comple- 
tion, put out the eyes of the architect, that 
he might never build another such church. 

In the TretiakofF Gallery, a private col- 
lection in Moscow, there is one truly terri- 
ble picture of this Tsar, who so deserved 
that epithet. His son had angered the 
father, who in a fit of ungovernable rage, 
struck him in the temple with his long 
sharp-pointed staff. The old man has 
overturned his chair, thrown aside the 
bloody staff, and is seated on the rug, clasp- 
ing his dying son in his arms. There is an 

insane light in his eyes, and one can almost 
see him rock to and fro in his agony of re 
morse. The blood slowly oozes through 
his fingers as he tries in vain to stanch the 
wound in the temple, while the tear- 
dimmed eyes of the poor boy are fast clos- 
ing in death. A most realistic and horrible 
picture — it makes one shudder, yet has a 
strange fascination that keeps one from 
turning away. One of the two great Rus- 
sian artists, who exhibited at the World's 
Fair, painted this picture. I can't recall 
whether it is Constantin Egorvitch Ma- 
koosky or Ivan Constantinovitch Arioz>v- 
sky — "What's in a name?" In Russian 
names, " ovitch " and "ovna" mean "son 

Inside the chnrclies, the priests with 
their golden crowns and jewelled robes, 
swing the censers and nuirch in picturesque 
p)rocession in and out the columns until 
the hiiih altar is reached Within the 
golden railing they pause; the boy-chorus 
chants melodiously whih the Metropolitan 
(high priest) blesses the peopile, who pros- 
trate themselves upon the stone pavement. 
Russian churches have no seats. 

We saw the Metropolitan of St. Peters- 
burg officiate in the church of our Lady 
of Kazan. He was a small graceful man, 
with bushy gray beard and sad but kindly 
eyes, and presented a magnificent appear- 
ance in a heavy crown and gold-embroid- 
ered robes of white satin. 

Before the people leave the church, they 
place lighted tapers before the icons of 
their patron saints. An icon is a painting, 
the surface of which is covered with gold, 
all save the face, hands, and feet of the 
saint whose portrait it is. The icons may 
be of small, cheap kinds, hardly bigger 
than one's hand, which the peasant buys 
for his thatched hut ; or they range all the 
way from these to the life-sized ones stud- 



ded with gems or wrought in mosaics, 
which ornament every column in the cathe- 
drals. Those in mosaic, however, are not 
covered with gold. An icon with burning 
tapers is found in all private houses and 
railway stations, and usually in hotels and 

There is one especially holy icon, the 
Iverskaya Virgin, which has a little chapel 
all to itself in a principal Moscow street. 
It is so old and sacred that it is kept cov- 
ered with a dark cloth except in one spot 
an inch square, which is kissed daily by 
hundreds of devout worshippers. Even 
the Czar kisses this icon when he visits 

The schools for the common people 
hardly deserve the name. Children of the 
upper classes are educated at home, or sent 
to such institutions as military and naval 
academies, or schools of mining and en- 
gineering, where they learn only what is 
directly useful to the Government. There 
are, however, seven great universities in as 
many cities of the Empire. One of the 
finest is in lielsingfors, capital of Finland ; 
another at Warsaw, in Poland. It is to be 
hoped that tlie young Czar will restore cer- 
tian liberties recently taken from these coun- 
tries. The trouble is, the Finns and Poles 
are smarter than the Russians, as a rule, 
both races being more intellectual than 
their more powerful conquerors. 

The educated Russian of the upper 
classes is a fine linguist. He speaks not 
only the languages of half Europe, but a 
few Asiatic dialects as well. He considers 
it a great accomplishment to speak English, 
and is pleased when you tell him his accent 
is good, which is usually the case. 

Truly, in Russia one feels far from home. 
The other countries of Europe are more 
like each other, but in Russia one seems in 
Asia rather than in Europe, especially in 

Moscow, as St. Petersburg is more cosmo- 

The barbaric influence of its Slav and 
Tartar races is shown in the architecture 
of the country, in the choice and combina- 
tions of color and in the tastes of the peo- 
ple. The calendar itself is eleven days be- 
hind ours. This is because Russia dislikes 
innovation, and would not accept with the 
rest of Europe the changes made in the 
calendar by one of the Popes. Notice the 
proclamations of the young Czar in the 
palmers and see if they are not dated Oc- 
tober so-and-so, " old style." 

Russia is a land of extremes. The peo- 
ple are either finely educated or densely ig- 
norant. There are palaces, and there are 
hovels ; picturesque cities, and miserable vil- 
lages. It can be warm in Russia or bit- 
terly cold. Russians are sad-faced, as a 
rule, even if not sad-natured. Their very 
dance music has a wail in it. 

Under much of the glitter and parade is 
darkness, gloom. This is characteristic of 
things Russian. The houses of Moscow 
are painted gorgeous tints — bright shades 
of red, blue, yellow, pink or white, with 
queer tin and copper roofs, and present a 
gay appearance. But if you examine them 
closely, you will see that the walls are a 
cheap kind of stucco, easily chipped and 

Again, Moscow, with her million inhab- 
itants, has a fire department which consists 
of carts loaded with small water barrels. 
But the Chief! He makes up for all other 
deficiencies. This important personage, 
wearing a much brass-buttoned and gold- 
braided uniform, dashes up to the scene of 
the conflagration, and, striking an attitude, 
orders every one about and directs where the 
poor little water barrels shall be thrown, 
taking care, however, that he himself is in 
a safe place. To Americans, ^-cqustomed to 



seeing' their own well-drilled and well- 
equipped fire departments in action, this 
performance seems little short of the 

Do not fail to view the city from the 
Sparrow Hills. From here Napoleon and 
his soldiers, weary with the long march 
from Smolensk, first looked down upon 
the ancient capital of Knssia. We saw it 
at sunset. The glow of a dying day sur- 
rounded like a halo fantastic towers and 
shining spires, and each gold cross and 
starry dome flashed tire in the sunlight. 
The city was one hlaze of confused colors 
and gleams. No wonder the soldiers of 
Napoleon were silent with awe at the sight, 
while their commander stood transfixed, 
with folded arms, and murmured, " Mos- 
cow, holy Moscow." We sat and watched 
this scene till twilight blurred it and the 
last glimmer was smothered in the gloom. 
Then came the long ride back to the city. 
A feast night in holy Moscow is not soon 
forgotten. All the chimes were ringing, 
and the people thronged into the churches, 
through whose swinging doors floated the 
faint odor of incense. Inside are bowing, 
kneeling worshipers, priests in solemn pro- 
cession, swaying censers, glittering icons, 
shining altars ; outside, cool night air, 
starry skies, droskies clattering briskly 
over the cobblestones, surging but quiet 
throngs, weird ringing of bells, soft mur- 
muring of the little river Moskva. Over 
it all shines the peaceful moonlight, silver- 
ing golden turrets, and turning to mysteri- 
ous ghosts with flapping draperies, the 
white statues in the niched walls of the 
Church of the Savior — a night never to 
be forgotten. May you know such an ex- 
perience ! 

We will send you the addresses of guides 
and other persons who will be useful to 
you there. 

And, by the way, Ivan veliki mariinski 
theatr zamoutali engelitcheiF Vasili Bla- 
gennoi, europaschi gastinski, Nijni Nov- 
gorod, don't you think so yourself. 

Good-bye, T. Y. P., '96. 


THE walls of the cathedral, like those in 
all churches of that kind, are covered 
witli paintings representing Bible scenes. 
The faint light of the candles on the altar 
causes the pictures to appear strange and 
weird, and the tops of the great stone pil- 
lars, as well as the remote corners, are lost 
in the gloom. Behind the altar hangs a 
picture of the Crucifixion, with the crown 
of thorns on the bleeding head, the hands 
and feet pierced by the cruel nails, the hair 
all tangled and hanging in a dark mass 
over ihe ears and shoulders, and in the 
eyes that inexpressibly sad, sorrowful 
look which seems to forgive instead of re- 
prove. The place is filled with the spare, 
gaunt forms of monks, men in whose 
pale, emaciated features self-denial may be 
seen, and in whose eyes burns the liglit of 
fanaticism. Before the great picture 
stands a young and beautiful woman, her 
body showing the marks of violent strug- 
gles, her clothes torn to pieces, and her 
long, silken hair hanging in a disordered 
manner down her back. As she stands 
there in all her youthful beauty, with one 
arm stretched towards the picture, as if in 
silent appeal to the King of kings, the fa- 
natics around her seem to shrink back as 
though awed and afraid, and do not dare 
to desecrate the altar with innocent blood. 
Bertrand B. Downey, '96. 

Live with men as if God saw yon, 
Converse with God as if men heard vou. 





^ ]^ S oue walks down South Meridian 
^\ Street, after passing Madison avenue 
an attractive group of buildings meets the 
eye of the stranger. This is the new In- 
dustrial Training School, whose spacious 
corridors and well-equipped rooms, after 
several months of skillful building, were 
thrown open Februarj^ 18th to the pupils of 
High School No. 2 and other scholars from 
different parts of our city, who, following 
the teachings of Runkle, believe that "prac- 
tical education is an education of the brain 
to intelligence and the hand to skill," and 
that "this combination will give the high- 
est directive power."' 

This handsome building, whose main en- 
trance is on Meridian Street, is built of 

pressed brick and stands three stories high, 
the whole being overtopped by two square 
towers. It is divided into three depart- 
ments — the scientific (southern), the liter- 
ary (central), and the technical (northern). 
On each of the three floors are corridors, 
with cemented floors, running the entire 
length of the building, and through which 
the pupils love to promenade. On the first 
floor, are three session and three recitation 
rooms, the seats in the latter having mov- 
able writing boards attached. Surely such 
seats would be " a joy forever" in the reci- 
tation rooms of High School. The cook- 
ing and sewing laboratories, the library, 
the offices of the principal and directors, the 
teachers' assembly room and the machine 



shop, fonodry and forge rooms are also 
on the first fioor. On the second floor, are 
two session and four recitation rooms, the 
free-hand drawing rooms, containing over 
two Ions of beautiful art casts, the ele- 
mentary physical laboratory, and the wood 
working shop. On the third floor, are two 
session and two recitation rooms, the ad- 
vanced physical and chemical laborato- 
ries, a lecture room and mechanical draw- 
ing rooms. 

And last, but first in tlie hearts of the 
pupils, is their general assembly hall. They 
show the many visitors this with a feeling 
of which the north side student has never 
been aware when he is showing visitors 
our hall — if he ever does show it. 

This hall is a separate building to the 
east of the main one, with which it is con- 
nected by a short corridor. The interior 
is arranged in the form of a semi-circle, its 
five hundred seats sloping gently to the 
stage, which occupies an arched extension 
on the east side of the hall. On the walls, 
to the right and left of the stage, are busts 
of Shakespeare, Froebel, Franklin, and 
Humboldt. The general appearance of the 
hall, though not elegant, is one of bright- 
ness and finish. 

Not only have those who are students 
here reason to congratulate themselves, but 
all the residents of Indianapolis, for it is 
one of the finest schools of its kind in the 
West. R. H. 


Mr. Burrell. — His heed was balled and 
schon as eny glass. 
Mr. Kahn. — Nowhere so busy a man as he 

ther nas 
And yet he semed busier than he was. 

Mr. Mueller. — A lover and a lusty 

Mr. Higdon. — Ful longe weren his legges 

and ful lene ; 
Al like a staff ther was no calf ysene. 

Fred. Dickson. — Of studie took he most 
care and most heede. 

Glenn Morgan. — With lokkes crulle as 
they were leyd in presse. 

Harvey Elam. — He was a lord ful fat 
and in good poynt. 

Mr. Trent. — He was a verray parfigt 
gentil knight. 
Macy Good. — Of twenty yeer he was ot 

age I gesse ; 
Of his stature he was of evene lengthe. 
And wondurly delyver, and gret of 

Hugh Bryan. — Curteys he was, lowly, 
and servysable. 

Miss Platter. — That of hire smyling 
was ful symjile and coy. 
Miss Dye. — Sche was so charitable and 

so pitous ; 
And al was conscience and tendre herte. 

Mabkl Schmidt. — Hire mouth ful smal, 
and therto softe and reed. 
Mrs. Sprague. — Of small coral abonte hire 

arme sche baar, 
A peire of bedes gaudid al with grene ; 
And thereon heng a brooch of gold ful 

Mr. Benton. — Wei couthe he synge and 
pleyen on a rote. 

Mr. Doiby. — And he was not right fat, 
I undertake. 

Ma. Kobbrts. — Whit was his berde, 
as is the dayesye. 

It is easy in the world to live after the 
world's opinion ; it is easy in solitude to 
live after our own ; but the great man is 
he, who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps 
with perfect sweetness the independence of 
solitude, Emersoi{. 




(Virgil, Book I, Lines 81-123.) 

He spoke, and rapid turning shaft he hurled, 

And 'gainst the mountain's elefted side it twirled. 

Until at every offered way, rusli forth 

In battle marshalled winds, and race the earth. 

Confederate force the southern winds ally. 

And lowest depths of sea they cast on high, 

Till teeming with the trumpet's billowy lore, 

The}' roll the mighty waves to distant shore. 

Then comes the human outcry heard afar, 

The creaking of the cordage and the spar; 

While sudden darkness tears from Trojan sight 

The realm of heaven and availing light. 

Dark night doth 'pon the surging billows roll; 

And deepest thunder moves from pole to pole. 

Till in the flash of frequent lightning's gleam. 

For each man's death all things conspiring seem. 

At once Aeneas sees what fate impends, 

And on his limbs a chilling fear descends; 

From his despairing lips escapes a groan ; 

His wretched hands on high are thrown ; 

"0 thrice, O four times happy ye," he cries, 

"Who there before thy Trojan father's eyes, 

There 'neath the shadow cast by Ilian wall, 

Intending fates permitted that ye fall! 

Tydides, bravest of thy Grecian land ! 

Why did my fates prevent thy ready hand 

From stretching me upon that Ilian field, 

Where Achilles' spear the fates of Hector sealed ; 

There, too, the valiant Sarj^edon now lies, 

And there the rapid waves of Mendes rise 

To toss about upon her waters clear 

Some hero's body, broken shield or spear." 

E'en while he spoke, from the north a roaring blast 

Beat 'gainst the sail, then waves on high it cast. 

It breaks the oars, it turns the mighty prow, 

Full 'gainst her sides the flood is beating ncnv. 

Such rugged mountain waves the ships pursue. 

That some ere long the billows' summit knew; 

And others gaze upon a sandy lea 

Disclosed between the waves by yawning sea. 

Now from the waves some rocks, immense in size, 

(Called altars by Italian men) arise. 

Three ships fierce Notus takes within her hands. 

And dashes hard upon these lurking lands. 

Then others Eurus urges from the deep, 

And makes them to the sands and shallows leap. 

O fearful sight! into the shoals they bound. 

Till fatal banks of surging sand surround. 

Our hero saw a wave from overhead 

Then strike the stern that Orontes' Lycians led ; 

The helmsman headlong from his seat was hurled, 

And round the shij) the mighty death-waves purled, 

Till here and there amid thewhirpool vast, 

Above the raging waves a ship is cast. 

The useless arms of men, and treasures, too, 

The surface of the greedy sea bestrew. 

The valiant ship of Ilioneus now. 

The pride of Abas and Achates' mighty prow. 

And e'en the vessel of Aletes old, 

By conquering waves their wretched fates are told. 

A crash ! a yawning side, a cracking beam, 

The raging tempest rules, alone, supreme. 

Maey Littell Davis, '95. 


I CAME to the serious study of Tennyson 
* with a certain familiarity with the set- 
ting and plots of his poems. Slight as 
this knowledge was, it enabled me to di- 
rect my study solely toward the construc- 
tion and thought. 

In form, the most wonderful thing to 
me was the exquisite music and harmony 
of his poetry. Where a tender, flowing 
word fits his idea, it is used with the same 
instinct of selection which chooses a 
strong, homely word, when it is in harmony 
with the idea. This unerring selection of 
the fitting expression, produces a rarely at- 
tained unity and harmony. The faculty of 
controlling such apt expression is a gift in 
itself, utterly aside from the power of 

But it is hy the combining of the two 
that Tennyson makes himself king of 
poets. With a wonderful versatility, he 
makes one series of poems give forth the 
very spirit of chivalry and feudal times in 
such a subtle way that for the time, at least, 
we can see the chains linking the past with 
the present. " The Princess " is redundant 
with the modern spirit, but is given a med- 
ieval setting, that emphasizes the meaning 
of it. Here is a vein of thought, so 
modern, so progressive, that it makes 



partly visible the chains drawing us 
toward the future. 

Not only among; men does the poet's 
genius wield sway, but he has an intimate 
companionship with nature. He finds 
Nature more personal than any other poet 
with whom I am acquainted. This is 
brought out in "In Memoriam" where, in 
the direst agonies of his great sorrow, Na- 
ture always finds a place. He seemed to 
recall his friend more vividly, more hu- 
manly, when out of doors. The climax of 
all this feeling is reached in the conclusion 
of the poem, when, after many years, he 
finds his friend mingled insolubly with 
Nature, which only means with God. 

Edith Keay, '96. 


The archangel Hope 

Looks to the azure cope ; 
Waits through dark ages for the morn, 
Defeated day by day, but unto victory born. 

— Emerson. 

[ANY years ago, Mt. Desert Island 
was not, as to-day, the beautiful 
summer resort, frequented by crowds of 
gay and pleasure-loving people. Then 
the name did well apply, for the little 
towns which dotted it here and there were 
the homes of hard-working people, who 
earned their scanty livelihood by the aid 
of net and boat, people whose monotonous 
lives depended entirely upon the gracious- 
ness of the sea. I do not mean to say 
that these people Avere not happy, nor was 
life always monotonous ; if it had been, 
why should I be writing this story? 

In the southern part of Mt. Desert, or 
Mt. " Desar^," as the inhabitants pro- 
nounced it, was the little village of Bris- 
tol, a fishing town, consisting of a cluster 
of weather-beaten cottages, a lighthouse 

and some dangerous rocks. If one from 
our world had visited this little town, he 
would have pronounced it tiresome and 
uninteresting But at one time, there was 
excitement enough to thrill the blood of 
the sturdiest. There was not a man, 
woman, or child in all the town of Bristol 
who could not tell the story of the Dol- 
phin and the fate of Captain Wentworth. 
Phillips, a noted pirate, had been plunder- 
ing all the country round, and Bristol, 
among the rest, had suffered. On the 
morning of November 7th, Captain 
Wentworth (so he was called, though he 
had not been a captain for twenty years), 
with six strong, sturdy men set out in the 
Dolphin, determined to capture the pirate 

Hearing that the pirate and his men were 
cruising not far away. Captain Wentworth 
made sail in that direction. They soon 
came in sight of the vessel, and Wentworth 
ran down to her, ordering her to heave to. 
The freebooter ran up a red flag in defi- 
ance. Waving liis sword, his men poured 
a volley into the Dolphin, and the action 
raged fiercely for some time. Four of 
Wentworth's men were killed, and Went- 
worth himself foolishly boarded the pirate 
ship, fighting desperately. The pirates 
immediately bound their prize hand and 
foot and made ofi"; and, although diligent 
search was made, seven years had elapsed 
and no trace of the pirate ship or news 
from the brave Captain had reached the 
anxious ears of Bristol. The two men, 
both wounded, were the only ones who 
went back alive in the Dolphin to tell the 
sad tale to the heartbroken ones at home. 

The loss of Captain Wentworth, or Cap- 
tain Joe, as he was sometimes called, was 
mourned, perhaps, more than that of the 
others, probably because the four who were 
killed outright could be accounted for, but 



many and wild were the conjectures and 
speculations as to the fate of the Captain. 
As the years passed, however, every one 
gave him up for lost, only a pleasant 
memory of him lingering in their minds. 

Did I sa}^ that every one gave him up? 
No, there was one who fully helieved that 
some day Joe would come hack to her 
again. This was his wife, Hannah Went- 
worth, who had loved him so tenderly, who 
for thirty years had not been separated 
from him for a single day. Joe was fifty- 
one when he was carried away, and she was 
fifty. Nearly seven years had gone by, and 
still she hoped, hoped almost against fate. 
People looked at her with pity and shook 
their heads, saying that if she kept on in 
the way she had been doing, she would 
certainly lose her mind. Little did she 
dream when Joe waved a good-bye to her 
on that morning that it was, perhaps, the 
last time that she would ever see his face. 
When the sad news was broken to her, as 
gently as a gruft' seaman could break such 
a piece of news, she sat as one stunned, 
only one heart-breaking cry escaping her; 
but with that cry, her heart seemed to die 
within her, and the energy which had 
throbbed in every nerve an hour before 
now seemed dead. 

The men dreaded to come back after 
their fruitless searches to meet that small, 
black figure, waiting, with tight-clasped 
hands, upon the shore, and to shake their 
heads, to that ever eager question, ' Oh, 
what news? Have you brought me back 
my Joe?" Finally search was given up, 
but still every evening, could be seen upon 
the shore that same small figure dressed in 
black, the gray hair, once jet black, tossed 
about by the stiff" breeze, and the piercing 
black eyes gazing far out over the water 
as if they would penetrate its farthest 
limit. And always this same figure would 

turn sadly back, walking with labored 
steps to the little cottage that Joe had 
built for her and him. When friends who 
pitied her would try to persuade her to de 
sist from these sad pilgrimages, she would 
say : " Why ! Joe will come back some 
day, and I must be there to meet him." 
And so the years went on, and still Han- 
nah was faithful. She had not changed 
much in these seven years. Save a sad, 
drawn look about the mouth, the face was 
the same that Joe remembered. The little 
cottage in which she lived was some dis- 
tance from the other dwellers of the island. 
Joe had built it apart from the rest because 
she, Hannah, had wislied it. It was close 
to the sea, and close to the rocks, a treach- 
erous group called " Ledge of Terror." 
Here also was the lighthouse, and well 
need it stand there, for of all the rocks of 
Mt. Desert none were more dangerous than 
" Ledge of Terror." Here the sea rolls in 
great waves that overwhelm everything 
within their reach. It is a desolate place. 
Here often rides a flock of wild fowl, and 
occasionally the mournful cry of a loon or 
the shriller scream of a seagull mingles 
with the roar of the surf. 

Now, to go back to the cottage — Han- 
nah's cottage; it was a small, weather- 
beaten house, but picturesque. Nature had 
coated the parts which the elements had 
robbed of paint with a film of gray. 
Crowded about it in the summer time was 
a tangled growth of shrub and vine run 
wild. A syringa bush stood demurely 
holding her blossoms protectingly up 
against the gray of the weatherboards and 
adding to the general look of wilduess (for 
it had grown wild in the past few years) 
was a cluster of untrained suckers, cling- 
ing to the skirts of the syringa. Hum- 
ming birds, with their droll compass of 
sound, entirely out of proportion to their 



tiny size, darted in and out among the 
sweet blossoms, of which the yard was 
full, where they hung and flitted and poised, 
gleaming like living coals of Are. This 
little touch of living color upon the gray, 
with the blossoms and the verdure, might 
delight the eye of any artist. 

Here, in the little home, Hannah Went- 
worth had spent many happy days, always 
used to hard work, always cheerfully per- 
forming all the honsewifely duties that a 
'New England woman so well knows how 
to do. But since Joe had been gone the 
housework had been neglected, and the 
once model garden had become overgrown 
with shrubbery. She had not been com- 
pelled to earn her own living, however, for 
Joe was always a thrifty man, and had laid 
away a neat little sum for a " rainy day," 
as he said. Like all the rest of the in- 
habitants, he had earned his living by Ash- 

His brother, John Wen tworth, was keeper 
of the lighthouse, and, as every one said, 
was the " good-for-nothingest " man in all 
the town. Unfit for his responsible posi- 
tion, lazy, slothful, and, worst of all, given 
to drink, was John Wentworth, and many 
a time had Captain Joe lighted the great 
light in the tower when John lay sleeping 
oft" the effects of his last quart of rum. 
How or why he had kept the position so 
long no one could tell. Joe's sad fate 
seemed to rouse him, however, and of late 
years the lamp had been lighted regularly, 
and people were beginning to say, "John 
Wentworth is following his brother's ex- 

It was the 6tli of l^ovember. Hannah, 
as usual, was preparing her solitary even- 
ing meal. She was despondent this even- 
ing, and there was a far-away, wistful look 
in the bright black eyes. As usual, she 
had gone to the shore, and as she had stood 

gazing seaward, had imagined she saw the 
outline of a ship against the sky. ISTow 
for a ship to anchor at Bristol town would 
have been an unusual event, so no wonder 
Hannah's heart beat quicker as she thought 
she saw a ship, perhaps from foreign parts. 
In vain had she watched the small black 
spot until at last it vanished, whatever it 
was, behind the waves. 

" Seven years ago to-morrow," she said 
to herself, as she went to the door to look 
out; then, "0, Joe !" she said, " where are 
you? Can't you tell me, somehow?" 

With her eyes wet with tears she turned 
into the house; they were the first tears 
she had shed for seven years. " I don't 
know what is the matter with me; I feel 
as weak as a cat. There ! " shaking herself 
and dashing the tears from her eyes, " what 
would Joe say if he thought I'd give up like 
that?" Just then a blast from the north 
shrieked round the house, shaking the 
beams and rattling the window sashes. 
"It is getting colder," said Hannah, "and the 
wind is rising ; I guess it's going to be a bad 
night." Slie put away the dishes and the 
remnants of her scanty meal, and at 8 
o'clock, having read aloud a chapter of the 
Bible and offered up an earnest prayer, ask- 
ing for Joe's safety and that some day he 
might be brought back to her again, she 

The wind had risen considerabl3^,but Han- 
nah, used to the noisy surf and fierce winds, 
soon fell asleep. But not for long, how- 
ever ; she was haunted with a fearful dream, 
a horrible reality, it seemed; there was a 
storm at sea, a terrible storm, and a ship 
struggling with the waves, and she was 
unable to lend her aid. She saw the waves 
tossing, and something coming towards her 
l)orne upon the largest billow. Nearer 
and nearer it came, until it was laid at her 
feet. O, heaven ! it was Joe, pale and dead. 



With a cry of horror she awoke. In all 
these seven years she had not thought of 
Joe as dead. 0, the bitter, hitter, awaken- 

But haj^k! what was that terrific roaring 
and booming, that shrieking and wailing? 
Hannah stopped to listen ; her breath came 
fast. "A storm at sea," she muttei^ed, "and 
the waves are calling me. Somebody wants 
me, needs me. Let them want; let them 
need ; those waves yonder have carried 
under Joe. AA^hat now do I care? what 
work have I to do ? I say let them die, if 
any one is wild enough to be out on a night 
like this." 

Her voice had grown harsh, and her face 
wore a hard, set look ; her eyes glittered 
like coals of fire, and her hands were 
clinched tightly together. But now a 
change; a sudden revulsion of feeling came 
over her What was she doing? what was 
she thinking of? was she crazed? What 
would Joe, dead Joe, think if he could see 
her thus? She must go out, down to the 
beach, for something was drawing her, 
warning her that there was danger some 
where. Dressing rapidly, and wrapping a 
long cloak tightly about her, she left the 
house. At the first step, the wind almost 
raised her from her feet, and involuntarily 
she shuddered. Why did it seem so pitchy 
black? A quick thought flashed across 
her mind, and was as quickly answered as 
she turned a swift glance in the direction 
of the light house. "Good heavens," she 
groaned, "John has failed to light the lamp, 
and on a night like this!" Without 
another w^ord she hurried on, gasping, 
stumbling, crawling, until she came to the 
tall tower that should have been casting 
its beacon light over the waters to anxious 
watching eyes. She opened the door and 
went in ; there, as she expected, prone upon 
the fioor was John, in a dead stupor, the 

air reeking with the odor of rum. She 
tried to rouse him, she shook him, called 
him, all to no avail. What was to be done ? 
It was three-quarters of a mile back to the 
first house, and the wind was fearful, and 
there was no possible hope of rousing John. 
Only one thing was left to be done : she 
must light that lamp herself if she died in 
the attempt. And what if she did die ? It 
was nothing to her, now Joe was dead. 
Dead she was convinced he was, for the 
dream had been to her like a revelation. 

Groping about the room with only a lit- 
tle greasy, smoky lantern, she at last found 
tapers, and now^ — 0, how she dreaded it ! — 
she must ascend the stairs. Up, up the 
rickety steps she went, round and round, 
until panting and breathless she reached 
the top. Holding the dimly lighted lan- 
tern up to the beacon, what was her horror 
to find that the chimney was broken, and 
no other to be found in that small lamp 
room. Suddenly she remembered that she 
had seen a chimney in the room below, 
and probably this was the new one John 
had purchased to put on the light that 
night. Down she Aveut, and finding the 
coveted piece of glass, she again mounted 
the stairs. The lamp needed oil, needed 
trimming, all this Hannah gave it, and at 
last, all was ready ; she lighted a taper and 
touched it to the great wick. 

Was this not worth all the labor? A 
brilliant stream of light shot forth over 
the water, and Hannah's woi'k was done. 
Again she descended the stairs, but a 
strange dizzy feeling was creeping over 
her, she must have strength to reach home. 
She seemed almost to be in a dream. What 
had she done, and why ? Because some one 
had told her to, surely that was the reason. 
These thoughts passed through her mind 
as once more she pushed out into the 



Gusty wind-clonds were whirling about 
overhead and the wind was howling. 
The great waves roared and plunged upon 
the beach. She could see a gigantic wall 
of foam and the sea was white with rage 
as far as the eye could see. She looked 
across the strip of water lighted by the 
beacon She strained her eyes, she looked 
again ; surely close to "Ledge of Terror," 
so close that it made her blood run cold, 
was the black hulk of a ship. " O, God !" 
she cried, "I see now why I was sent out 
on a night like this." "I thank thee that 
thou hast permitted me to save some poor 
souls, may they now come safe in anchor." 
" But stay, Hannah Wentworth, your work 
is not yet done," she said, " go rouse Jim 
Long and Thomas Blake, else all may not 
yet be well." 

So saying, she tottered on, her steps 
growing feeble and more feeble, till at last 
slie reached Long's door, and beating upon 
it with a heavy stick she found at hand, 
at last roused the sleepers, and with the 
little breath yet left her, whispered : " A 
ship on the rocks," then fell back fainting 
dfead away. 

The morning of November seventh 
dawned bright and clear. The angry wa- 
ters had grown calm, except that the waves 
were a little more restless than usual. The 
beach told the tale of the night before, for 
upon its pebbly sands lay thick the debris 
cast forth by the terrible storm waves. 
Except for this, one could not have believed 
that the fierce storm- king had carried his 
revels so high only five hours before. Not a 
cloud could be seen in the heavens, and 
although it was November, the birds, seem- 
ingly regardless of the fact that it would 
soon be time for flight, were caroling as if 
they had some sweet message which they 
could not pour fast enough into the ears of 
chance listeners. 

The village was all astir; it always was 
very early in the morning. But instead of 
the usual bustle among the fishermen in 
getting ready their fishing paraphernalia 
for their day's task, they seemed to gather 
in knots, to talk in low tones, and some- 
times a hearty hand-shake was exchanged 
with a chance newcomer. The town was 
wild Avith excitement; every one knew 
something and tried to tell it to somebody 
else who knew the same tiling. Every one 
had learned of Hannah VVentworth's hero- 
ism of the night before, and very anxious 
did their faces grow when Hannah's name 
was mentioned, for Hannah was ill. But 
tins was not all they knew. 

As I said, Hannah Avas ill. In fact she 
had not regained consciousness since she 
had given her last message. A crowd had 
gathered in front of the house. The vil- 
lage doctor was there, talking earnestly 
and in whispers to Mrs. Long. He was 
evidently trying to impress upon the mind 
of Mrs. Long that unbroken quiet alone 
must be kept in the sick room. 

But what was the noise outside ? A 
smothered cheer arose. Somebody was 
pushing his way hurriedly through the 
throng. He was running up the walk, 
mounting the stairs, the door was thrown 
open with a bang, and a man, tall, 
broad, brown, cried out, " Where is she ? 
Where's my WMfe? I won't be kept back 
a moment longer. Where is she, I say? 
Bless her, bless her, the bravest woman in 
Bristol town ! " 

A cry from the next room was heard. 
The sound of that ringing voice had started 
afresh the life blood in the frail body of 
Hannah. In an instant she was in the 
room. " I heard Joe's voice calling to 
me," she said; then catching sight of Joe 
(for Joe in truth it was) she drew her hand 
tremblingly over her eyes saying, "Am I 



in Heaven, or has Joe come back from the 
dead? She tottered forward and Joe 
caught her in his strong arms, kissing 
tenderly the dear face he had yearned for 
so long. " You'll have to gness again, 
sweet," he said, " for you are not an angel 
yet, nor was I, nor am I now, and, God 
willing, don't intend to he for some years 
yet. Look up, dear, and tell me you are 
glad I am come home again." And she 
did look up, iirst longingly, hungrily unto 
the bearded face above her, and then fer- 
vently towards Heaven, saying, " O Lord, 
I thank thee that thou hast given me back 
this, my greatest treasure on all the earth." 

Then going to the door, leaning on Joe's 
arm, she beheld all the village folk as- 
sembled round the gate. Upon seeing the 
two, such a cheer rent the air as you never 
heard before. 

"God bless Captain Wenlwortb ! Hur- 
rah ! Three cheers for Captain Wenf- 
worth ! " Four hundred voices joined in 
glad accord ; four hundred caps waved 
wildly in the air. A lull — and then louder 
than before — " Three cheers for Hannah 
Wentworth ! Three cheers ! Tlie pluckiest 
woman on Mt. Desarf." 

Caroline Towns iind, '95. 


What means tliis wondrous title that is wafted o'er the 

From the lips of the collegians, an enthusiastic band? 
" A body of college officers!" then of our dear High 

I fain would crave a word about the ones who there do 


First of all, Professor Hufford is our genial prin- 

Who is feared above all others to be found within the 
school ; 

Mrs. Hufford, who is famous for her teaching of "Eng- 

Is beloved by all the Seniors who fultill lier every wish. 

Mr. Dotey, the instructor in " Amo-araas-amat," 

Has a world-wide reiJutation for his knowledge of all 

While Mr. Higdon of DePauw, so tall, and straight, 

and fine, 
Is an acknowledged mathematician, but knows more in 

the medical line. 

Then dear Miss Dye, whom every one loves, if only 

for charity's sake. 
Is brimming o'er with spring thoughts galore, of bird, 

and tree, and lake. 
Our French professor — M. Newland; O, I would that 

he'd ne'er found this street. 
For many a girl, with heart in a whirl, is kneeling in 

tears at his feet. 

Mr. Trent, the man on geometry bent, never bends an 

ear to girl's chatter. 
While two little maids, also sober and staid, are called 

Misses Rankin and Platter. 
Mr. Maitin, our rhetorical scientist, has a sarcastic 

tongue as a rule, 
And dear Mr. Roberts, that graud old man, is the 

patron saint of the school. 

You would guess in a moment from Mr. King's name, 

he was monarch of all he surveyed, 
I)Ut that's a mistake, in his soul lie doth quake, he's as 

shy as a timid young maid; 
When it comes to a question in politics or law, we look 

at once at Miss Donnan ; 
Messrs. Crowell, Good, Bryan, Buriell, Chandler and 

Benton have a knowledge of science uncommon. 

Mrs. Carey, algebraic instructor, will allow no drones 

in the hive, 
Und zu alien Deutschen Fehlern, Herr Mueller is keenly 

Miss Selleck portrays with her crayon the beauty in 

nature and art. 
And the choicest and best in literature, Mrs. Sprague 

treasures up in her heart. 

Mr. Hill, who teaches Latin, though he's kind, as all 

can see. 
Is not loyal to our city, as he really ought to be. 
This constitutes a faculty of which we all feel proud, 
And we step out of our school life to sing its praises 


— Susie M. Clark, '95. 

Our doubts are traitors, 

And make us lose the good we oft might win, 

By fearing to attempt. 



ERE I am," says Art, " wandering about 
in this vast domain, entirely ignored by 
some, sneered at by a few, tolerated by 
others, admired and utilized by only a 
comparatively small number. Why should 
I be set apart to be ' handled with care ' 
by a few who claim to be artists, while my 
friend Literature is known to all ? Few 
are the people who have not made the acquaintance of my 
most w^orthy companion, to a certain extent at least, but 
those who know me and use me are few indeed. Why 
am I not known? Am I not the symbol of all that is 
bright and beautiful? Places dark and dismal would. be- 
come cheerful and inviting if I cou'd but take possession. 
In a few words, I will s-how what I think I could do to 
benefit mankind, if only I could receive the attention of 
many and give inspiration to all." 

" Utility of Art! that means that I must be of use. There 
are many ways by which this could be accomplished, but 
the best way, it seems to me, would be to brighten gloomy 
lives and give more pleasure to the pleasant ones, thereby 
making every one happier and better. But before I can do 
this, the wall which has encircled me must be torn down. 
Every one must admit me to liis presence and give me a 
hearty welcome, so that I can make known my worth." 

"If I enter a home and put a few bright artistic touches 
here and there, and give each room a special charm of its 
own, making the drawing-room bright and cheerful, the 
dining room rich and inviting, causing the library to show 
its worth and the bedroom its repose, will the occupants not 
be happier and better? If I visit the schoolroom in the 
shape of bright flowers and attractive books well illustrated, 
shall I not be made welcome? The relation of thought in 
the sentence to the expression is most carefully taught in 




the schools. Why should not the relation 
of what is beautiful to what is useful be 
taught also? The A, B, C of harmony of 
color, one of my most important factors, 
has gained an entrance into the public 
schools, which I hope will be my stepping- 
stone to something grander and nobler. 
Statues and pictures would surely aid in 
gaining the desired end." 

" But in the church is where I long to be. 
There everything could be pure and simple, 
subdued, and yet expressive. With har- 
mony in color and design, much pleasure 
would be given to the eye and a deeper 
meaning would be imparted with the 

" Could I not do just as much good in 
public buildings and on the street? An- 
otlier line of my work would be introduced 
here, but with much the same effect. If 
bits of light, sunny landscapes were to be 
seen in the public buildings, business men 
who have not the time to spend the hot 
summer days in the country' would be re- 
freshed with one passing glance. The 
pictures given in the daily papers attract 
the attention of many, and if they are 
good, there will be some good imparted 
by them. Ragged little newsboys, who 
invarial^ly pause to seethe gaudy, inartistic 
signs of to-day, would likewise tarry if 
they were artistic and pretty, but then 
they would carry away, unconsciously, 
something better. The colors used for 
houses, fences and carriages, which tend to 
beautify streets and cities, should blend 
with their surroundings and harmonize 
with each other." 

" A great deal depends on my harmony of 
coloring, which should be brought more 
extensively into use this coming spring, 
especially by the women. I should like to 
appear on every new Easter bonnet and 
spring suit, thereby becoming a leading 

rival of Fashion. The reform suit, if it 
were artistic and graceful, would not be so 
objectionable as at present, but my enemy. 
Fashion, has complete power to-day, much 
to my great injury." 

" When I am used by the people in their 
public and their private life, on the street 
and on the stage, and in everything they 
undertake, how can I fail to do good ? 
I shall become broader and better, and 
rapidly increase in power and loveli- 
ness. My designs will have more meaning, 
my beauty will be enhanced, my knowledge 
will be enlarged. Men will not have to 
rise to me in one great jump, neither will 
I stoop to them. We will help one another 
and all those around us." 

" All this and more would result if I could 
be more fully recognized. All could not 
be artists and treat me in a grand, lofty 
style which would make me live through 
ages, but if every one should contribute 
one original idea, or make an old idea 
original through its application, the effect 
would be felt on coming generations." 

Myra Daggett, '95. 


What the flowers mean to N'ew England 
children is very charmingly told in a re- 
cent number of the Atlantic Monthly; it also 
suggests some of our children's ideas in re- 
gard to those flowers with which they are 
on most familiar terms. 

With the Eastern " money-in-both-pock- 
ets," so called because the white central 
portion is left after the sides of the flower 
fall away, and " pin-a-sight," a floral de- 
sign on glass in which the little artist fre- 
quently exercises his own taste rather than 
that of Dame JSTature, we are not ac- 
quainted, but we love to think that the 



self-same dandelions, whose stems boys 
converted into horns, and girls into carls, 
belong both to ISTew England children and 
our own little ones. 

The tall thistle, which, it is said, scatters 
seeds like a very heretic, has lovers East 
and West who sing to it : 

"I had a little nut-tree, nothing would it bear, 
But a silver nutmeg and a golden pear ; 
The king of Spain's daughter came to visit me, 
And all was because of my little nut-tree." 

There is as much individuality among 
flowers as among human beings. The 
plain, round-faced sunflower is "en evi- 
dence" of honesty and overflowing good- 
nature; while royal pansies, though attired 
in purple and gold, are, to poets at least, 
pensive. Perhaps, however, we may ac- 
count for the habitual expression of this 
favorite since 

"Heart's-ease no more tlie wandering shepherd found ; 
No more the nymphs its snowy form j)ossess; 
Its white, now changed to purple by love's wound, 
Heart's-ease no more, 'tis love-in-idleness." 

Tiny Jacob's ladders, Maid-iu-the-mist, 
Flora's paint-brush, and fox- glove — fairy's 
glove — suggest pictures and incidents to 
the mind of a child by their names ; others, 
by legends or rhymes. The daffodil, not 
so very long ago, was the subject of a 
quaint little English story which has been 
told and retold till now ; perhaps, it may 
seem new. 

Once upon a time, there lived a little 
queen who became so lonely living in 
solitude in her large palace that she ofiered 
a diamond to the one who would bring her 
her favorite flowers. Immediately all sorts 
of rare and beautiful flowers poured in 
from all sides, but none of these would the 
child-queen accept. One bright morning, a 
little child was admitted to the palace who 
had gathered a basket of dafibdils for her 
queen. These proved to be her majesty's 
favorites, and the reward was at once given 

to the child, but pitying the anger and dis- 
appointment of the chief gardener, she 
gave the diamond to him. The queen, And- 
ing that the little maid did not return with 
fresh flowers, sent at onee for her, but soon 
learned that the child would not leave her 
father, who was languishing in a debtor's 
prison. Thus the guilt of the chief gardener 
was discovered, and he was compelled to 
resign his place in the queen's household to 
the father of the little flower-girl, who now 
gathered daffodils for the queen to her 
heart's delight. 

What child has not sat for hours in soli- 
tude on midsummer's eve beside the lady- 
fern — more delicate even than the maiden's- 
hair — hoping to meet fairy benefactors? 

"Marigold, rich marigold. 
Give me your money to hold," 

we sang to that firefly of swamps and 
hollows, and doubtless teased not a few 
with the old familiar rhyme of 

' ' Kitty Clover 
Lived in Dover, 
When she died. 
She died all over." 

"Do you like butter?" asks the butter- 
cup, but the daisy stands by winking its 
bright yellow eye and nodding its wise 
white head as much as to say, " What a 
superfluous question to ask a child ! " 

Imaginative children, on the contrary, 
love better to weave their own tales about 
certain flowers, but especially about the 
evening primrose or " pretty-by-night," so 
mysterious in the dim light out in the long 

Long ere the " vision " of the child ha^ 
"faded into the light of common day'' he 
has loved IS^ature as only those can whQ 
have made her gifts their first and dearest 
play-fellows and found " all Elysium in a^ 
plot of ground." 

Oharlottb F. Kbtcham, '95. 




Mr. Higdon. — Airy, Fairy Lillian. 

Mr. Dotey. — Hoyle on Whist. 

Mr. Mueller. — The Reveries of a Bache- 

Mr. Hufford. — In Varying Moods. 

Mrs. Hufford. — Work. 

Mr. Martin. — Reed and Kellogg's Graded 
Lessons in English. 

Miss Rankin. — Sanuiel Sniile.-^. 

Mr. Trent.— Side Talks with Girls,— 
Ladies Home Journal. 

Miss Dye — Aspirations of the World. 

Miss Platter. — If, Yes, and Perhaps. 

Mr. Newland. — Dream Life. 

Mrs. CUrey. — Little Women. 

Mr. Benton. — The Song Birds of the 

Mr Roberts — Grimm's Fairy Tales. 

Miss Selleck. — Near to Nature's Heart. 

Mrs. Spraoue. — The Duchess. 

Mr. Kino. — Prue and I. 

Miss Anderson. — The Open Sesame. 

Miss Donnan. — Women's Sufi'rage and 


/2)0ING to the mountains — going to 
V3[ God's clean, healthy wilds, near or 
far — is going home, and therefore it seems 
to me that the annual outing wise people 
take now-a-days from dust and care is one 
of the most hopeful and significant signs 
of the times. 

A few years ago, even the White Hills 
of New England seemed far from civiliza- 
tion, and only the exceptionally bold and 
adventurous could ever hope to see such 
mysterious regions as the Rocky Mount- 
ains or the dark woods " where rolls the 
Oregon." Now they are near to all who 
can command a little time and money. 

When the first railroad was built across 
the continent, an interesting branch of the 
stream of tourist travel began to set west- 
ward, to see golden California and its glori- 
ous Sierras and Yosemite. Then, on the 
completion of the Northern Pacific Rail- 
road over the Cascade Mountains in the 
summer of 1887, the gate was opened 
wide to the icy northern wilderness. 

The trip to Alaska from Tacoma through 
Puget Sound and the Thousand Islands of 
the Alexandre Archipelago is perfectly 
enchanting. Apart from the scientific 
interests, no other excursion that I know 
of may be made into the wilds of America 
in which so much grand and novel scenery 
is unfolded to view. Gazing from the deck 
of the steamer, one is borne smoothly over 
the calm, blue Avaters through the midst 
ot a multitude of lovely islands, clothed 
with evergreens. The ordinary discom- 
forts of a sea voyage, so formidable to 
some travelers, are not felt, for the way 
lies through a network of sheltered in- 
land channels that are about as free from 
the heaving waves that cause seasickness 
as rivers are. Alaska is a web of land and 
water thirty or forty miles wide and about 
one thousand miles long, outspread like 
embroidery along the edge of the conti- 
nent. Made up of an infinite number of 
features, and also fine and ethereal in tone, 
the best words seem coarse and unavail- 
ing. Tracing the shining levels through 
sound and strait, past forests and water- 
falls, between a constant succession of 
azure headlands, it seems as if, surely, at 
last, you must reach the best paradise of 
the poets. Some of the channels through 
which you glide are extremely narrow 
compared with the height of the walls that 
shut them in. However sheer the walls, 
they are everywhere forested to the water's 



The view changes with magical rapid- 
ity. Rounding some bossy cape, the 
steamer turns into a passage hitherto un- 
seen, and glides through into a wide ex- 
panse filled with smaller islands sprinkled 
wide apart or clustered in groups such as 
only nature could invent. Some are so 
small and low that the trees covering them 
seem like mere handfuls that have been 
called from the larger islands and set in 
the water to keep them fresh, the outer 
fringing trees around the sides often 
spreading like flowers beaming oat against 
the rim of a vase — thus beautiful are these 

The first stop made by the Alaska steam- 
ers after touching Seattle, E^ort Townsend, 
Victoria and Nanaimo, is Fort Wrangel, 
the distance between the last two places 
being about six hundred miles. Wrangel 
is a boggy place, but is favorably situated 
as a center for excursions to some of the 
most interesting portions of the country. 
Indians may be seen on the platforms of 
the half dozen stores, chiefly grown women 
and chubby children with wild eyes. Most 
of them have curiosities to sell when the 
steamer arrives, or basketfuls of berries, 
red, yellow and blue, which look wondrous 
clean as compared with the people. They 
are a proud race and maintain an air of 
self-respect that no amount of squalor can 
wholly subdue. Many canoes may be seen 
along the shore, all fashioned alike, with 
long beak-like sterns and prows. What 
the mustang is to the Sioux and Cherokees 
the canoe is to the Indian of the Alaskan 
coast. Nowhere in my travels have I seen 
so many berries. The woods and meadows 
are full of them — huckleberries of many 
species, salmon berries, raspberries, black- 
berries, currants and gooseberries, with 
strawberries and servieeberries in the drier 
grounds, and cranberries in the bogs, suffi- 

cient for every man, bird, beast and human 
being in the territory, with thousands of 
tons to spare. The Indians beat them into 
pulp, press the pulp into cakes about an 
inch thick, and dry them for winter use 
with their oily salmon. 

The coast climate is remarkably bland 
and temperate. It is rainy, however, but 
the rain is good of its kind; mild in tem- 
perature, gentle in its fall, filling the foun- 
tains of the streams, and keeping the whole 
land fresh and fertile; while anything 
more delightful than the shining weather 
after the rain — the great round sun days 
of June, July and August — can hardly be 
found elsewhere. An Alaska midsummer 
day is a day without night. In the ex- 
treme northern portion of the territory, 
the sun does not set for weeks, and even as 
far south as Sitka and Wrangel the rosy 
colora of evening blend with those of the 
morning, leaving no darkness between. 
Nevertheless the full day opens slowly. A 
low arc of colored light steals around to 
the northeastward with gradual increase 
of height and span, the red clouds with 
yellow dissolving edges subside into hazy 
dimness, the islands, with rufts of mist 
about them, cast ill-defined shadows, and 
the whole firmament changes to pale pearl 

As the day advances toward high noon, 
the sun-flood pouring through the damp 
atmosphere lights the water and sky to 
glowing silver. Brightly now play the 
ripples about the edges of the islands, and 
there are plume-shaped streaks between 
them where the water is stirred by some 
passing breeze. The broad, white bosoms 
of the glaciers glow like molten silver, and 
their crystal fronts and multitude of ice-, 
bergs are kindled to a blaze of irised light, 

Through the afternoon, the day grows in 
beauty. The air seems to thicken without 



losing its tineuess, and everything settles 
into deeper repose. Then comes the sun- 
set with its purple and gold, blending 
earth and sky in one inseparable scene of 

An interesting excursion may be made 
from Wrangel to the deserted village of 
the Sitkeens. The moss-grown ruins are 
picturesque, and surprisingly massive and 
substantial considered as the work of In- 
dians. Some of the wall planks are two or 
three feet wide, six inches thick and forty 
feet long; while the carved timbers that 
support the ridge poles, and the stranger 
totem poles, display marvelous specimens 
of savage art. 

From Wrangel, the steamer goes up the 
coast to the Taku Olacier and Juneau. 
After passing through the picturesque 
Wrangel I^arrows, you may notice a few 
icebergs, the first to be seen on the trip. 

Gliding northward, 3'our attention will 
be turned to the mountains of the Coast 
Range, now for the first time near and in 
full view. The icy canons open before you, 
as you pass in regular order, showing their 
wealth. I^ow a bold head-land will hold 
the eye, or some mountain of surpassing 
beauty of sculpture, or one of the larger 
glaciers seen directly in front, its gigan- 
tic arms and fingers clasping an entire 
group of peaks, and its bruad, white trunks 
sweeping down through the woods, its 
crystal current breaking here and there in 
shattered cascades, with azure light in the 
crevasses, making you deplore your inabi 
ity to stop and enjoy it all in cordial near- 
ness. It was from one of these glaciers to 
the south of Cape Fanshaw, that the Alaska 
Ice Company loaded their ships for Cali- 
fornia and the Sandwich Islands. 

In a few hours, you come in sight of 
more icebergs. They are derived from 
four large glaciers that discharge into the 

heads of the long arms of Holkam Bay or 
Sun Hum, At the mouth of Taku Inlet, 
you encounter another fleet of drifting ice- 
bergs from the grand Taku Glacier twenty 
miles distant. The Taku Inlet contains 
many glaciers, one of which belongs to the 
first class. It makes a grand display of 
itself as it conies down from its lofty foun- 
tains into the head of the fiord and sends 
ofiT its bergs. To see this one glacier is 
well worth a trip to Alaska. 

After leaving Juneau, where it is claimed 
you may see "the largest quartz mill in the 
world," the steamer passes between Doug- 
las and Admiralty Islands into Lynn Canal, 
the most sublimely beautiful and spacious 
of all the mountain-walled channels you 
have yet seen. The Auk and Eagle gla- 
ciers are displayed on the right as you 
enter the canal, coming with grand effect 
from their far-reaching fountains and down 
through the forests. But it is on the west 
side of the canal near the head that the 
most striking feature of the landscape is 
seen — the Davidson glacier. It first ap- 
pears as an immense ridge of ice thrust 
forward into the channel, but when you 
have gained a position directly in front, it 
is shown as a broad flood issuing from a 
noble granite gateway, and spreading out 
to right and left in a beautiful fan-shaped 
mass. This is one ot the most notable of 
the large glaciers that are in the first stage 
of decadence, reaching nearly to tide water, 
but failing to enter it and send ofl' icebergs. 
1- Excepting the Taku, all the <|uartz gla- 
ciers you see belong to this class. 

Shortly after passing the Davidson, the 
northmost point is reached, and at the 
canning establishments near the mouth of 
the Chilcat River, you may learn something 
about salmon. Whatever may be said of 
other resources of the territory — timber, 
lurs, qainerals, etc. — it is hardly possible to 



exaggerate the importance of the fisheries. 
Besides cod, halibut, herring, and other 
fishes that swarm over immense areas, 
there are probably more than one thousand 
salmon streams in Alaska, in some of 
which, at certain seasons, there is more fish 
than water. 

The steamer now goes down the canal 
through Icy Strait and into the wonderful 
Glacier Bay. All the voyage thus far has 
been icy, and we have seen hundreds of 
glaciers great and small. But this bay 
region about it and beyond it toward 
Mount St. Elias is pre-eminently the ice 
land of Alaska and the entire Pacific Coast. 
The largest of the glaciers that discharge 
into Glacier Bay is the Muir, and, being 
the most accessible, is the one to which 
tourists are taken and allowed to go ashore 
and climb about its icy clitfs and watch 
the huge blue bergs, as with tremendous 
thundering roar and surge they emerge and 
plunge from the majestic vertical ice-wall 
in which the glacier terminates. 

The number of bergs given ofiT varies 
somewhat with the tides and the weather. 
Prof. Muir says that one large berg will 
drop every five or six minutes. All the 
very large bergs rise from the bottom with 
grand commotion, heaving aloft in the air 
nearly to the top of the wall, with tons of 
water pouring down their sides, and heaving 
and plunging again and again before they 
settle and sail away as blue crystal islands ; 
free at last, after being held a rigid part of 
the slow-crawling glacier for centuries. 
It seems strange that ice formed from 
snow on the mountains two and three 
hundred years ago should, after all its toil 
and travel in grinding down and fashion- 
ing the face of the landscape, still remain 
so lovely in color and so pure. 

Fain would I describe the glories of a 
few weeks in the ice world — the beautiful 

and terrible network of crevasses, the clus- 
tering pinnacles, the thousand streams 
ringing and gurgling in azure channels 
out in the living body of the glacier, the 
glorious radiance of the sunbeams falling 
on crystal hill and dale, the rosy glow 
of the sunset and dawn, the march of 
the clouds on the mountains, and the 
mysterious splendor of the Auroras when 
the nights grow long. I can add but this 
one sentence — Go to Alaska, go and see. 
Fred. C. Dickson, '95. 



TRIP to Europe means to most people 
a summer vacation or at most a year 
spent in sightseeing. Although they think 
they have seen everything, it is only after a 
residence of a year or so in one place that 
one begins to realize how much is to be 
seen. The ordinary tourist gives a week 
or two to London; the tiaveler gives two 
months ; the person who wishes to see 
London, two years. 

It was during a residence of a year and 
a half in London that I attended the Uni- 
versity College School, connected with the 
old and famous University College. The 
school was conducted like Eton and Har- 
row and had an attendance of five hundred 
boys. As it was a boys' school, the teachers 
were all men. While it was called a public 
school it would be known, with the rest of 
its kind, as a private school in America. 
The tuition was £8. 8s. a term, or about 
$40. All our l)ooks we bought at the store- 
room, a little room on the first floor of the 
building, and we put our own label on 
every book. This label contained our last 
name and then our initials. We were ad- 
dressed this way in class and were regis- 
tered so. Thus John Smith was called 



Smith, J. Although I was in school a 
year, I never knew the first names of any 
of my schoolmates. 

When a boy, aged seven or eight, en- 
tered the school, he commenced with Eng- 
lish, Latin, French, and perhaps arithmetic. 
The second year he would take Greek, and 
after three or four years, would take up 
algebra and geometry. The grounding iu 
the classics is begun very early, and by the 
time a boy is fifteen years old, he is able to 
read and write Latin and Greek almost as 
fluently as English. 

We went to school morning and after- 
noon, with an hour's intermission for 
dinner. On Wednesday we had a half 
holiday, and a whole holiday on Saturday. 
In the morning, as a general thing, we had 
English, Latin, French and history. The 
English work included compositions, spell- 
ing, reproductions, literal and otherwise, 
of poems and essays, and grammar. Latin 
and French were taught as in our schools, 
and the history was, of course, the history 
of England. 

At noon every day, we had an hour to 
get lunch. Some of us went home, others 
bought lunch of a man who brought in a 
supply of buns, cakes and every sort of 
unsubstantial food so dear to the average 
boy's heart. No boy was allowed to have 
beer at noon without his parent's consent, 
but most of them had it with their lunch. 
After we had disposed of our pennies, foot- 
ball or some other game occupied us until 
the afternoon session began. 

The afternoon was devoted to mathe- 
matics, physics, and in the last term, to 
chemistry. 'I he text-books in mathematics 
can not be compared with American text- 
books, and arithmetic in English money 
was very hard at first. I remember insur- 
ance, partial payments and compound inter- 
est as especially hard for me, accustomed 

as I was to working with dollars and cents. 
The work in chemistry and physics was in- 
teresting, but there seemed to be no system 
to it; the eftect, if not the intention, was to 
puzzle and confuse. 

It was remarkable how scanty the infor- 
mation concerning America was. The 
boys seemed to think America resembled 
the interior of Africa. I was asked several 
times if I had ever shot buffalo, and when 
I said I had never seen one wild, they could 
hardly believe me. Nine hundred miles 
from New York seemed to them to locate 
my home on the Pacific coast One boy 
actually asked me what language they 
spoke in the United States, not as a joke, 
but in earnest. 

On the whole, my experience at the Uni- 
versity School was an exceedingly pleasant 
one I received a good start in Latin, 
French and algebra, and the English work 
was equivalent to about two years' work 
in our schools. 

A year in an English school was not 
only a change from our public schools, but 
a very pleasant one. The methods, the 
teachers, the studies, all were difiTerent ; 
the school was hardly a school to me, but 
rather a place to study English ways and 
English boys. Parker Hitt, '95. 


When is charity like a top ? 
When it begins to hum. 

Why is an onion like a piano ? 
Because it smell odious. 

Why must an Englishman go to the 
Continent to weaken his grog or punch? 
Because island (ile and) water won't mix. 

Why are people like coins? 
There are two sides to everybody, 




Oh, river proud, who long hath held thy sway 

And passed with independent air thy wonted way, 

Hath looked upon fair Nature's native hue 

Ere aught but savage eye had gazed upon the blue 

And spreading sheets that form thy sparkling source; 

Ere aught but savage foot had traced thy winding course. 

And wandered near each rapid running reach; 

Ere aught but savage ear had heard th}' sounding speech, 

Which bore the word of God and taught belief 

To savage mind, and filled it with a calm relief. 

Long hast thou furnished beauty by thy mien. 

But now a grander, nobler use for thee is seen. 

For though thou dost thy beauty still retain, 

To grace now addest thou a world-enriching gain ; 

For many years thou didst descend the height 

And fill with awe the hearts that saw thy splendid sight, 

But now thou sendest part of thy great force 

In rushing torrent through a recent stone-cut course. 

The tunnels dug for thee thou enterest in. 

And there th v far extending work thou dost begin ; 

The first thou meet'st to check thy fleeting way 

Are turbin wheels set there by man thy course to stay, 

Till by thy weight the wheels begin to turn. 

And thou art rushing on, a fresh reward to earn. 

And up above the turbin wheels revolving just below, 

A rod connecting them, there stands a dynamo. 

And from this point thy force is far outspread. 

And by a slender guide about the world is led. 

0, mighty force in Nature's mighty scheme, 

Thou now art met by greater power in Reason's gleam ! 

For ages, thou couldst flow where thou didst please. 

But now thy course thou hast to guide by man's decrees. 

And, at his will, thou must descend his caves. 

And turn his late-invented wheels by thy great waves. 

Thou shouldst not think that 'tis descending grace 

To leave thy ancient course and occupy a place 

Will aid to raise the world to higher state. 

Will add a stone to build this earth a nobler fate. 

From hand of God thou didst receive thy fitst, 

Thy ancient use; from hand of God through man thou 

Assume the duties laid for thee anew, 
And to the world thou offerest now a broader view. 
At first, thy power didst reach but to thy brink. 
But of thy virtue now a greater number drink. 
Thou sendest o'er the country, far and wide. 
Thy labor-saving, broadly-benefiting tide; 
In cities large, thou dost distribute light 
And deck'st the darkest corners in thy coating bright; 
By day thou sendest through the crowded streets 
A car which, with a smile, each passing person greets; 
Thou enterest in the shops and turn'st their wheels, 
fhy perfect power unto the tradesman humbly kneels; 

Thou workest in the rich man's princely home 

And makest wider far the arch of pleasure's dome^ 

Unto the poor thou sendest thy fair spark 

And makest bright the hours before were often dark. 

Mankind could barely do without thy might. 

Now that thou'rt come, he scarce could live without thy 

Thou hast, by thus assuming duties new, 
Not lost, but gained, thy former beauty added to. 
The character by Nature given thee 
So fair at first, now fairer shines, controlled, yet free. 
H. E. Churchman, '95. 


TRYING in a hammock, I looked through 
1_^ the space between two great trees 
which stand close together like stern and 
rugged sentinels to guard the lovely little 
nook that I can see beyond them. In the 
angle formed by the side of a house and an 
old weather-beaten fence overgrown with a 
heavy net-work of sturdy ivy, is a spot 
well fit for a fairy revel. The ground is 
thickly carpeted with the cool, broad, green 
leaves and white, pearly cups of lilies of 
the valley, the sweetest children of the 
spring To the right, is a thick clump 
of dainty, feathery ferns, some a dark, 
rich, deep) green, some frail tiny things 
with a pale, emerald shade, like the color 
of the ocean in a clear, shallow place. 
Nestled down deep among the ferns and 
lilies is an old bench, worm-eaten, mossy, 
and covered with lichens, its soft grays and 
greens forming an exquisite background for 
the fresh young growing things around it. 
One long shaft of light from the setting 
sun steals through the leafy screen of the 
trees and lovingly touches the old bench 
with a golden glory, gently forces its will- 
ful way through the closely twined stems 
of the ivy on the fence, tips the waving 
ferns with light, and with its shining fin- 
ger, puts a finishing touch to a beautiful 
picture. Elizabeth McIntosh, '96. 





THE poet's mission is to interpret ISTa- 
ture. If we were truly cultured, we 
should not need an interpreter, because 
then we should not only see the beauties 
and wonders and hidden relations of things 
in the natural world, but we should also 
have the power to express our feelings as 
they impress us. But since the world has 
not reached that high standard of educa- 
tion in which people can think and express 
their thoughts for themselves, we must 
needs have the clear-headed and clear- 
sighted poets to voice them for us. That 
the poet is an interpreter of Nature is 
shown by the quick response in individual 
hearts to liis words. 

The poet of Hawthorne's imagination 
was also a poet of humanity. He not only 
beheld the beauties of the outside world, 
but of man. The poet touches with a del- 
icate and sympathetic finger the common 
people and the common things of life, and 
it is the touch of transmutation, for now 
"the man or woman is no longer sordid" 
with the common dust of life, but is glori- 
iied, and the traits of the divine in the 
character are brought out. 

It is tbe duty of the poet to show the 
passing of things into higher forms — from 
the external to the spiritual, from the real 
to the ideal, from the body to the soul. 

The poet, more than any other person, 
shows the powerful use to which words 
may be put. Every word was originally a 
poem, and it took a poet to make it. 

The mission of the poet is to make 
beautiful things more beautiful, and won- 
derful things 'more wonderful, to awaken 
the sleeping faculties, and, above all, to 
make us real seekers after the good, the 
true, and the beautiful. 

EuNicK Curtis, '97. 

IT was twilight in the little village of 
Yardsley. The sun seemed loath to 
shade this beautiful earth in darkness, 
and lingered on, a great red disk, just keep- 
ing above the horizon. In the distance, the 
hills stood out in bold relief, showing blue 
and purple in contrast to the crimson sky ; 
and the lake, lit up by the waning rays, 
was one sheet of shining, blinding splendor. 
The forest loomed dark and drear through 
the faint light, and as the Avind swayed the 
branches and leaves, it seemed as if it were 
the sighing of fairies and goblins mourn- 
ing for the dying day. 

The lamps are beginning to show in ev- 
ery house, and, hark ! the factory whistle 
blows, dismissing from toil all of its pris- 
oners for that night. 

A horse and wagon come clattering 
down the hill at the right, and it is such a 
strange group that we shall describe it. The 
woman who is driving is a true type of 
Western hardiness. She is tall and gaunt, 
but the face is as ruddy as a "Spitzen" 
apple and is lighted up by kindly gray 
eyes ; the nose and chin are perhaps too 
pointed for symmetry, but the whole, if 
not handsome, shows a determination to 
battle on. The horse, a bay, had once 
been handsome, but now was knock-kneed 
and generally decrepit, and the wagon 
might have been "The Wonderful One- 
horse Shay," so rickety it looked. 

This group now stopped before the sta- 
tion and our heroine, who is, by the way, 
Annabelle Eliza Breton, dismounts, and, 
stepping on the rails, looks anxiously up 
the track. "Ef thet thar boarder don't 
'rive, I dunno what I'll do," she says, half 
aloud. "I hev counted on her so much, 
seems ef 'twould be awful ef she didn't 
turn up. Ah ! thar comes that train." 



She goes back to the platform, and 
moves not again, till the train has ari'ived 
and a beautiful girl of about twenty steps 
off and looks around as if half puzzled. 
She has a delicate face, a slight form, and 
is dressed entirely iu blue. Miss Breton 
steps up to hei- and asks, anxiously, "Be 
you my boarder?' "If you are Miss Bre- 
ton, I 6p," answered the girl, lifting brown 
eyes brimming with laughter to the older 
woman's. "Then thar's our boss," said Miss 
Breton, and before the girl can guess her 
intention, she shonlders the modest little 
trunk, and stalks towards the wagon. 

Soon they are on their way up the hill, 
and Miss Breton's tongue flies at a rapid 
rate. "Yer Si e. Miss," here she stopped — 
"May Hope," prompts the girl — and she 
resumed— "Yer see, May Hope, that Sally's 
boy is ailin' and she is very much worrited 
about him. So [ decided, durin' the win- 
ter, that I'd scrape along and try ter save 
enough ter bring him here for ter git 
healthiiide. But as craps war bad las' 
year, and a panik come ter boot, I los' 
mor'n I saved, and so I sent thet thar 
advertisement to the city paper. I hope 
you'll like this ha'ar place. I hev gin 
yer the parlor and bed room down stair 
fer your use. Whoa! thar Jimmy! don't 
ye know when yer home?" And climbing 
out of the wagon, she opened a gate and 
led the horse up to something that loomed 
white in the dusk. "Abe," she called. 
Almost instantly the door swung open 
and a lad of about ten summers stood 
framed in the doorway. "Take Jimmy ter 
the shed," she said, and lifting the trunk 
up once more, she led the way into the 
house, May following. After she had set 
the trunk in a small room furnished with 
a wash-stand, a chest of drawers, a bed, and 
two chairs, she said, "This ha'ars your 
sleepin' quarters, and after you've slicked 

up, Abe '11 fetch yer fer supper," and May 
was left alone. ' She removed her hat and 
wraps and viewed "her sleepin' quarters." 

A bright bit of rag carpet covered the 
floor; the large bed, and all the furniture 
in the room, in fact, was polished till it 
shone, and not a speck of dust was to be 
seen anywhere. The two windows of the 
room were protected from insects by 
mosquito netting, and from the ceiling 
over the bed hung a canopy of the same 

" The advertisement said a porch on 
which a hammock could be hung and a 
good view gotten," mused the young girl. 
" I shall see that to-morrow, doubtless. If 
this place is picturesque, I shall use my 
camera and write stories ; and if it is quiet, 
I shall certainly get the rest I wish." 
" Come in," said she aloud, as she heard a 
timid knock. Abe's tow-head appeared 
and she followed him to supper. Almost 
immediately after, she retired to her rest. 

The place proved to be delightful, and 
her stock of camera views grew daily. She 
hung her hammock on the " porch " and 
her heart gladdened as she saw the view. 
The porch was like a room, separated from 
prying eyes by densely growing ivy, which 
screened the porch completely, except 
where it was trained to form round open- 
ings, " peep-holes " Abe called them. 

One evening, soon after her arrival, as 
May was sitting lazily viewing the sunset, 
Miss Breton, or Aunt 'Liza as she was 
universally called, joined her. " May," she 
said, " nothin' aint been said 'bout board. 
I^ow do yer think two dollars a week is 
too much ? " 

" Two dollars a week ! " exclaimed the 
girl scornfully. "It is easy to see, Aunt 
'Liza, that I am your first boarder. I pay 
five dollars everywhere else and don't get 
half the accommodations I get here. Two 



dollars, indeed!" And she pretended to 
laugh scornfully, although she turned away 
to hide the tears which sprang to her eyes. 

" Five dollars! why that thar's a fortun', 
May. Why, with that much I kin afford 
ter hev Sally's boy now an' sen' Abe to 
school nex' winter an' pay off" the debt. I 
tell yer how 'tis," she said in a sudden 
burst of confidence. " Yer see, ray brother 
John he married a widder that had two 
young-uns, an' he moved away from this 
ha'ar house farther down inter the village. 
Wall, these young-uns didn't like me, seems 
ef, an' they pestered me all they could. 
They killed a cat I war fon' of, a great 
mouser she war, an' thet made me mad. I 
tol' John, an' he decided I warn't good 
enough fer the likes er him no more, an' 
so he quit speakin'. Wall, 'bout four years 
ago, his wife bein' dead, he got inter hard 
straits and got me ter mortgage my house 
ter help him. 'Bout a year after he died; 
his young-uns went ter kin folks in the 
South, and I, the solitary survivor, war lef 
ter git my house out of pawn, 'cause thet's 
what it 'mounted to, May." And the poor 
soul broke down, and crying as if her heart 
would break, buried her face in her hands. 

" You poor creature, do not, O do not 
feel so badly," cried May. " How much is 
still left of the debt?" 

" 'Bout one hun'erd an' fifty dollars," 
sobbed the woman. 

"0, that's all right," said the young girl, 
cheerfully, "you know my name is Hope, 
and any one by that name must always 
supply that place in people's hearts. Can 
you crochet?" 

"A little," answered the woman, and a 
new light lit up her gray eyes, not the 
hard shrewd light of work and toil, but the 
blind light of love, of an ideal. 

So May sent to the city for material and 
orders. And after that every week a 

box containing little crocheted baby hoods, 
mufflers, afghans and other winter comforts 
left the little Yardsley station marked for 
a city firm. Every week Aunt 'Liza re- 
ceived an oflacial looking letter, wiiich con- 
tained, it seeraed to her, an immense sum. 
Sally's boy came and proved to be one of 
May's little pupils in the city. 

But May Hope saw that with all this 
the mortgage could not be paid off before 
she left, and so she roused her wits to get 
more money. She sold her camera views, 
made paintings, and, best of all, wrote 
stories which were always accepted. Fin- 
ally, by the middle of August, she had 
raised fifty dollars and Aunt 'Liza had one 
hundred more. 

Aunt 'Liza knew nothing of the amount 
May had and her heart, though eased of 
part of its burden, still longed for the re- 
lief of " havin' her house out of pawn." 
And then — Jimmy died. One morning- 
Aunt Liza came running from the barn to 
the house. Her eyes were full of tears, and 
she sobbed "Pore Jimmy ar' dead." 

"Too bad," said May, sympathetically, 
"many a pleasant ride I've had behind 
Jimmy. You need a horse, too." 

"Ef Lawyer Brown hadn't taken thet 
pony as security," sobbed the woman. 

"What pony? Sit down and tell me 
about it," said May 

"Why, it war this way. May, it war jus' 
this way. John lef a pony 'at had been 
the young-uns' ter me in his will. Wall, 
when Lawyer Brown read the will he tuk 
thet thar pony, saying 'at it belonged ter 
the creditors. Folks say 'at he jes tuk a 
fancy ter thet pony an' so he kep' him. I 
was too broke up to keer then, but I wish 
I had hira now." 

A queer, bold light flashed from the 
girl's eyes, and a determined look took 
possession of her sweet face. 



"What is it, May?" asked Aunt 'Liza 
anxiously, rather startled by the look on 
the girl's usually calm face. 

" Nothing at all, only that I think 
I'll go to town for a short time" Soon she 
was hurrying down the street with some 
money tucked securely in her pocket 
book. Going in at Lawyer Brown's gate, 
she met him face to face. Bowing, she 
said : " I am May Hope, and I would like 
to see the pony that belonged to John 

" Step this way," said the man, a puzzled 
look on his face. He led the way around 
the house, and opening a door, he pointed 
to a stall in which stood a small-sized 
horse of a gray color. He was handsome, 
and looked young and vigorous. 

" Now we will come to business, Mr. 
Brown," said May bravely, although 
her heart quaked at her own boldness, 
"that horse is not yours. It belongs to 
Miss Breton. Now, I wish to make you 
an pfFer. I will give you twenty-iive dol- 
lars for that horse. If you do not accept 
that, I shall turn the case over to the 

The lawyer's eyes blazed, but he decided 
to make the best ot it, so he said : " Miss 
Hope, you just saved me the trouble of 
fetching him home. I found out, just 
yesterday, that the creditors did not need 
him, and I had just finished saying to my 
wife that Miss Breton's pony must be re- 
turned to-day. No, I don't want that," as 
May ottered him a roll of bills — "or — well, 
I'll take ten dollars for his board and feed.'' 

Ten minutes later, May was on her way 
down the street, followed by a little boy^ 
who led Roxy, the pony, by the rope hal- 
ter. She stopped at a buggy shop and 
bought a cart and harness at a small out- 

Aunt 'Liza was surprised to see, an hour 

later, a gray horse drawing a cart, come 
into the yard. But when May leaped 
from the vehicle, exclaiming, "It is yours, 
Aunt 'Liza," her joy knew no bounds. As 
May related her adventure, the woman 
laughed and cried by turns, and finally 
seizing May's hand, she thanked lier — 
thanks which were surely sincere. 

A few days later, having seen Roxy in- 
stalled in her new quarters, Abe fitted out 
for school, and " the house out of pawn," 
she departed. Arthur Breton, Sallie's 
boy, returned to the city with May, and 
Abe and Aunt 'Liza came to the station to 
see them go. 

" Dear soul, I hate to go, but duty calls," 
said May, as she wrung the woman's 
hand "I w^ill come back next summer, 
however. And now, good bye." 

And May's last glimpse of Yardsley 
showed the "Solitary Survivor" still 
standing on the platform, waving her 
handkerchief in friendly adieu. 

Helen Schurmann, '98. 


WHATEVER he may call himself, it 
is as a painter of nature with words 
that Ruskin is named with enthusiasm 
wherever men speak the English tongue. 
One reason for this admiration is that his 
subject permits of the introduction of the 
beautiful. His intense love for nature and 
his deep study of it give a meaning to every 
object. Vegetation is considered as an im- 
perfect soul, with many of man's charac- 
teristics but none of bis emotions ; the sky 
he mentions as the friend and teacher of 
the human race; the clouds are called a 
veil stretched between earth and heaven to 
lessen the glory to the weakness of our 
human understanding. 



Not only do we find meaning given to 
nature by this poet-artist, but he enters 
into the minutest details in his descrip- 
tions, making them beautifully concrete. 
Now, this is done by the use of an adjec- 
tive, "the trackless mountain," or, again 
by comparisons, either implied in the ad- 
jective as " dragon-crested," or expressed, 
as for. instance, " cold juice or glowing 
spiee," " softness and strength." Instead 
of merely stating that vegetation furnishes 
all that is needed by man, Ruskin names 
all the uses to which the products of nature 
may be put, whether they be strong or 
weak, whether on land or on sea, in peace 
or in Avar. 

The language of " The Beautiful " is 
marked by the most melodious words and 
the most harmonious combinations of them, 
and in studying these selections, one finds 
that this is perfectly accomplished. We 
can not read them without constantly 
meeting some such expression as, "came 
out of the south and smote upon their 
summits," " faintest pulse of summer 

The use of figures is profuse; scarcely 
an adjective is used which is not meta- 
phorical, and personification is fre- 
quent. It seems as if Euskin could not 
think of nature without giving it human 
characteristics. The similes are not so 
commonly used, but tlie few introduced are 
marked by rare delicacy and vividness. 

In some places, as in the picture of the 
hurricane, these descriptions become sub- 
lime. The fearful storm rushing over the 
earth fills the mind with awe and humility. 

Ruskin has himself complained that peo- 
ple were so fascinated by his descriptions 
that they overlooked the more argumenta- 
tive portions of his works; and truly the 
beauties of the descriptions would almost 
excuse this. They fill the mind of the 

reader with pure pleasure by the beauty of 
the language and ideas, and open a new 
world of loveliness and delight. 

Lucia S. Holliday, '96. 


IT WAS a blustrous winter's night, and 
the wind, as it whistled through the 
tree tops, told tales of long ago. The snow 
was falling thickly. Down it came as if 
eager to reach the earth. Then, as if sur- 
prised and ofi:ended at this unusual inac- 
tivity, it would spring up again, and dash 
down the streets, greeting the pedestrians 
with more cordiality than was agreeable ; 
rushing on and on till stopped in its head- 
long course by the numberless yawning 
cracks and crannies, waiting to be appeased. 
Surely the Storm Spirits were disporting 
with these mountains of new-found pearls, 
or was this the tribute of the Ice King to 
his friend and companion — Winter? 

The wind dashes around the corners, 
catches up the snow and forms whii'lpools 
and eddies of glistening white; then raises 
it toward the heavens till it forms a totter- 
ing column of clearest crystal that towers 
upward, piercing the clouds and reaching 
the nothingness beyond. It seemed the 
marble halls of the Spirit Land, through 
which stalked the ghosts of realities. 

Out from one of these pillars of mystery, 
stepped a figure clad in white. It was the 
spirit of an Indian returned from the Un- 
known to visit the scenes of his earthly 
life. He shook the snow from off his 
garments and looked about bewildered. 
Where he had expected to find a wilderness, 
he found a great city. The temples of God 
had given place to the temples of man. 

On the very spot where he now was had 
stood his father's wigwam. Here had he 




played when a boy, chasing the biitterllies 
and the squirrels or engaging in mock fight 
with his fellows. Where now were the 
trees, the flowers, the grass ? In their 
places lay the dirt and the paving stones of 
a street. Where was that dancing brook 
in wliich he had slaked his thirst on a 
summer's day? He was a poet, this child 
of the forest, and he had loved to hear it 
whisper to him tales of the greatness of his 
race. Sweeter than the singing of the 
rarest bird had been its murmuring as it 
lulled him to sleep after a long day's hunt. 
He now saw nothing but vile gutters. 
The earth, with conscious shame, was at- 
tempting to draw about itself a white gar- 
ment of hypocritical purity, which would 
disappear at the first tempting glance from 
the sun. All was changed, and as he looked, 
recollections of long ago fell upon him with 
crushing force. A low sob burst from him 
and he sank down slowly upon the curb- 

All Nature was in harmony with the 
sorrow of this lone Indian. Overhead the 
sky looked down with dark and forebod- 
ing brows. The sympathetic snow nestled 
closely up to him. No one but a child saw 
it. He called to his mother to look at the 
snow drift. She looked, but saw nothing. 
The few trees, likewise disappearing rem- 
nants of long ago, tossed their bare arms to 
and fro in agony. The wind moaned, and, as 
if conscious of the cause of all this misfor- 
tune, flew fiercely at the passers-by. All 
was sorrow. Who can tell the agony, the 
suffering of that poor soul ? As he sat 
there, he questioned Right, he questioned 
Justice. Could Heaven permit it? Ah! 
he did not know that that same Heaven 
was seen no more by the race he saw about 
him, but was hidden in perpetual obscurity 
by the dismal smokes and foul mists given 
birth by that same city. None knew that 

the suflTerings, the wrongs of a down-trod- 
den race were re-written that night, and 
re-written for a purpose. 

He arose slowly and started down the 
street. He Wiis jostled by the tlirong that 
saw him not. All either jingled the con 
tents of their pockets or gazed with long- 
ing into the store windows. The darkness 
of the night seemed to enfold and draw 
him on. The shadows assumed weird 
shapes and forms, that started up before 
him. Beckoning to him as they glided 
on, they danced in fiendish joy, like the 
wild phantasms of an evil dream. In vain 
he pursued them. They vanished but to 
appear and mock again. And ever and 
anon from unknown space was borne to 
him the dirge of the wind, '' Alone, alone !" 

On and on he went, but he saw no more 
the familiar scenes of his childhood. The 
white race had long since eflFaced the slight 
traces left by the red man. Is this civiliza- 
tion ? Must Nature die, must simplicity 
disappear, that new customs and the fabri- 
cations of evil minds may live? 

As he went farther, his step grew slower, 
his mien reverent. His head sank forward 
on his breast. He was approaching the 
burial place of his ancestors. He was 
coming to visit his father's tomb. This 
was the spot he had been taught to rever- 
ence and to love. In time of war, in time 
of peace, he had respected it. And now, 
a mighty building towered over the graves 
of his fathers. It was evidently a place of 
amusement. The sound of riotous revel- 
ings and the hoarse murmuring of rude 
laughter floated outward to his ears. Thus 
were the bones of the dead, the last resting- 
place of his race, desecrated. It was too 
much. A piercing shriek burst from him ; 
heaven and earth seemed rent asunder, and 
borne upward on the echoes, he vanished 
in the night. Chahles L. Barry, '97. 




FOR some time it has been evident that 
the required course in matlieraatics is 
very weak so far as tlie requirements in 
algebra are concerned. This is the most 
important branch of mathematics and a 
constantly growing one. A fair knowledge 
of elementary algebra to-da}' involves 
much more than it did even five or six 
years ago. One year is entirely too short 
a time for the average high school pupil 
to acquire any adequate knowledge of this 
subject, either as a mental discipline in this 
form of mathematical reasoning, or as a 
preparation for college. The announce- 
ment, therefore, that the Superintendent 
and Principal have asked the School Board 
to add an additional term's work to the 
requirements in algebra will be received 
with much favor. Our students ought to 
be able to take the examinations required 
for entrance to any of our best colleges. 
With this additional term's work, they will 
be able to do so. 

Students who have been puzzling their 
brains for a long time in attempting to dis- 
cover a reason for the requirement of a 
term's work in the so-called " commercial 
arithmetic " will be relieved to know that 
steps have been taken looking towards abol- 
ishing this requirement. No definite ac 
tion has been taken by the Board, but the 
recommendation has been made to them 
that this subject be combined with that (f 
book keeping, and so made an elective 
study. " 'Tis a consummation devoutly to 
be wished." 

A long felt want has been supplied by 
the inauguration of an elective class in re- 
view and advanced algebra and geometry. 
It was intended principally for those stu- 
dents who expect to go to college and need 

more mathematics than is given in the re- 
quired course. In algebra they have not 
followed any text-book, but have taken a 
treatment of the different subjects as pre- 
pared by Mr. Trent and given to them in 
manuscript form. 


§EATED on the bank of a small stream 
of water, under the shady branches 
of a spreading maple tree, I look toward 
the east, and as my eye follows the blue sky, 
here and there flecked with snowy clouds, I 
see it lower as it meets a dense forest of trees, 
which the atmosphere has veiled with gray. 
Directly in front of me is a large willow 
tree, the boughs of which are bent to meet 
the water below. In the shadow of this 
tree is a tiny boat, wliich the soft move- 
ment of the clear, still water does not dis- 
turb. A short distance beyond where the 
boat is launched, the stream turns north- 
ward, and as it makes its graceful curve it 
is lost to view, probably to become the 
center-piece of some other scene. Looking 
farther ahead, I see a meadow adorned with 
one lone hay stack which stands out pr^ni- 
inent against the dark background of trees. 
The afternoon sua beats hot upon the 
meadow, and the fowls seem to seek the 
shade of one tall poplar tree. The grass 
on the field is brown and dry, nothing 
seems to be flourishing, and the one tree, 
standing so tall and straight in the center 
of the bare space, seems to be all the life 
that is left until I come back to the quiet 
li tie brook, the banks of which are decked 
with the green foliage, where everything 
seems joyous and happy in the May day 

Virginia J. Sale, '96. 




WITH light hearts full of hope and 
no regrets save those of parting 
fr>ini friends, the class of '95 see their last 
term rapidly coming to an end. 

Our class has ever been a promising one, 
and shows unmistakable signs of coming 
greatness, although the future alone will 
reveal how many of us will have missed 
the calling for which we were specially 
fitted. Happy, indeed, should be the muse 
who is invoked to unveil the future of such 
a body ! For surely no class in days gone 
by or to come could boast of so many 
"blind shepherds," lawyers, physicians, 
poets, school teachers and scientists — not 
mentioning the future Presidents and Sen- 
ators who dwell in our midst. All through 
our school days, as verdant Freshmen, 
egotistical Sophies, arrogant Juniors, and 
lordly Seniors — the proofs of our superi- 
ority have ever been confirmed and made 
evident. We have implicitly believed that 
we excel all former classes, and by intimate 
association with those befoi'e us, and close 
observation of those who followed, we have 
never had reason to change our minds. 
We look back pityingly upon the young 
battlers in Algebra, Latin, Civil Govern- 
ment and Geometry. We are engaged in 
fiercer battles with antiquated Greek and 
Latin, foolish French, wheezy German, and 
breezy English. For four year.-^, we have 
wandered through the labyrinths of learn- 
ing ; for four years, we have gone through 
the cramming process ; and for four years, 
we have enjoyed most heartily our many 
skirmishes, sieges and battles, advances 
and retreats, and are just now beginning 
to appreciate those happy school days when 
our most severe task (and seldom success- 
ful one) was found in endeavoring to out- 

general the teachers, who in spite of our 
wicked spontaneity have us enshrined in 
their generous hearts. We know we shall 
be sadly missed (?) from our old places; 
all hearts will yearn for our lively presence ; 
the debating club will miss our strong de- 
baters ; the High School Chorus will miss 
our sonorous voices ; and the teachers will 
miss our peace-lovingmembers,but we must 
go, others must take our places and all must 
study the old proverb, " What can't be 
cured must be endured." Our High School 
Chorus, which has been organized, af- 
forded us a fine opportunity to give vent 
to our exuberance of feeling in song. 
The music was inspiring, to say the least. 
If Timotheus had been with us he would 
have died instantly, but we were not culpa- 
ble. We shall never forget our good times 
between recitations when we were prone 
to gather at the "tank" in the hall for a 
refreshing draught of H-2-0, and a pleas- 
ant word with a friend, watched mean- 
while by our genial Prof. Huftbrd. 

We shall remember well all the fun we 
have had; all our kind teachers, and as 
much as possible, of all they have taught us. 

We wish to leave nothing but good 
wishes behind us and to take with us the 
good will of all friends. 

We will go forth in June, with our 
diplomas in our hands and fond memories 
in our hearts, put on our armor and battle 
henceforth for the right, for glory and for 
success. Daisy Hendricks, '95. 

A perfect day in perfect May, 

The earth, all green ; the sky, all Ijlue ; 

And sun-glints kissing the morning dew 

That, 'neath the great trees of willow and biich, 

Like jewels crowns the sodded turf 

With brilliant diadems, unsurpassed 

By any sculptor's noble cast, 

Or any artist's colors gay. 


Hlumni IDepartment. 

IF we judge the value of our High School 
by the standing which her many sons ' 
and daughters have taken iu the world, we 
can hut bless her name and feel grateful 
for her teaching. The several instances in 
which a few of her children have made 
their names illustrious by their brilliant 
achievements bespeak her credit; the 
numerous instances in which many of them 
have left behind them a good record in a 
college or normal school also reflects praise 
on her training ; but bestof all is the sterling 
character, the high ideals, and solid worth of 
the hundreds who, with their diplomas, 
have taken from her dear old halls the stuff 
that has made them men and women. 

In September, 1894, Rembrandt Steele ('91) went to Paris, 
France, to enter the studio of the world-renowned sculptor 
MacMonnies, his purpose being to perfect himself in the art of 
decorative designing. From the following extracts taken 
from some of his letters, glimpses of the life of art students 
in Paris will be obtained. 

BURINGthe day we work in the schools 
and visit the galleries, and the even- 
ings arc usually spent at the club rooms of 
the American Art Association There con- 
gregate men who are interested in all sorts 
of things — poets, musicians, painters, art- 
ists of all kinds, and some very famous 
ones, too. I wish you could see the court 
yard of the club; it is stunning — the old 
walls, plants and tables in the sunlight and 
the purple blotches of shadow across them. 
When it gets too dark to work, we go 
for a stroll over to the Seine. Some of the 
finest things imaginable are to be seen 
along the river after the snn has set. Look- 

ing down it toward the west, the towers of 
Notre Dame loom up purjile against the 
rosy and smoky sky. Toward the south- 
west is the great Pantheon dome in all its 
serious grandeur. As the darkness of the 
night comes on, we lean on the wall and 
watch the boats stealing silently along the 
water, the moon's reflections coming nearer 
and nearer. We walk home through a 
little old street, and are continually run- 
ning across some old church or old, old 

I must tell you of a great thing I have 
enjoyed — a walk, or rather a pilgrimage, 
to that shrine, Barbizun, and the immortal 
forest of Fontainebleau. One Saturday, 
three of us w^ere eating our dinners to- 
gether, when some one suggested in 
a joking manner that we take a 
" stroll " down to Fontainebleau. It started 
us to thinking, and we soon decided to 
"stroll " as far as we could and then take 
the train back to Paris. We went home 
and got our storm coats and sketching 
materials and started, making our way 
through the suburbs, past :he walls and 
forts into the country. How good it was 
to get out into the fields and walk along 
those fine roads bordered with linden trees 
and Lombardy poplars ! The atmosphere 
was full of haze, and the perfume of 
flowers and fresh, pungent odor of the 
earth put us in a delicious, absorbent 
mood. It began to rain, but who cares for 
a French rain ? At four o'clock we stopped 
at a little village to get some lunch. We 



Went into a little old inn, wlioi'e some peas- 
ants Were drinking, and asked for cafe-aii- 
lait. The fat landlady as well as ber guests 
Were perfect!}' amazed, and after they had 
jabbered at us awhile we concluded we 
would take what We could get ; so, after 
partaking of a lunch, which consisted of a 
jug of sour wine, some bread and a lump 
of over-ripe cheese, we felt refreshed and 
started on. At a place farther on, about 
eight, we had a good supper, and feeling 
not at all tired we decided to go on to 
Corbeil on the Seine that night. That part 
of the walk was very impressive, passing 
through little villages where men and 
women were sitting on benches by their 
doors resting in the twilight. As it grew 
darker, the road took us through wooded 
places and sleeping hamlets, where the 
quiet was broken only by the- noise of our 
shoes on the cobble-stone pavements, or 
the baying of a farmer's dog off in some 
court-yard. About eleven, we climbed down 
the hill at Corbeil, awoke the landlady at 
the hotel and were soon in bed and fast 
asleep. The next morning we felt so re- 
freshed and happ3^ that we concluded to go 
on to Fontainebleau. On looking from 
our window, we saw what we had not seen 
the night before, that a little canal ran by 
tlie hotel, passing under stone bridges and 
picturesque old mills, then down through 
the meadows like a band of silver to join 
the distant Seine. We drank our cafe-au- 
lait and started out through the meadows 
toward Chailly. What a grand morniui? 
it was ! The sunlight, the cool fresh air, 
the fields of poppies and clover, and, above 
all, that concert we have so often listened 
to in the meadows about old Munich — the 
skylarks mounting toward the sky and 
pouring forth their happy songs in a 
shower of sweet melody. N^ow and then a 
peasant with his wife would pass us on 

their way to church. Off in a field a blue- 
bloused garcjon was herding his sheep, and 
a cure with his broad black hat and black 
habit, a picturesque figure, was making his 
Way through the fields. When we reached 
Chailly, it had become misty again. Here 
we branched off the main road to Tontaine- 
bleau to go to Barbizon and were soon 
there. We felt we were on sacred ground 
and the charm of the pictures by those 
great men of the school of Barbizon came 
over me. I felt I understood them as I 
never had before. They are poems. 

We tarried here awhile to rest and eat 
our dinners, and then started through the 
grand old forest. Well, you can simply 
find everything there — wild, craggy places, 
old gnarled oaks and pines, and beautiful 
drives ; Rousseau's old women carrying 
bundles of fagots on their backs and — 
well, everything. About dusk we reached 
the town of Fontainebleau, a fashionable 
little place, completely surrounded by the 
woods. Next morning we walked all 
through the park and saw where Louis 
XIY held his revels. You remember 
Dumas' descriptions. The palace is won- 
derful. That afternoon we went over to 
the Seine, then up through the flat portion 
of the forest to that part called Bois-le-Roi 
and took the train back to the city, not so 
tired as one would expect after a sixty-mile 
walk. R S. 

IN September, 1894, Fritz Krull (Feb.,'04) 
sailed for Germany to take a three 
years' course in music at Berlin. He 
writes : 

"It has been my wish for a long time 
to dig deep into the mysteries of our no- 
blest art, and after my graduation from 
I. H. S , my father granted my wish. 
The conservatory which I now attend is 



'Das Nene Conservatorium der Musik.' 
It is a preparatory school to the 'Royal 
High School of Music,' at which the noted 
Von Bulow was director before his death, 
and whose place is now tilled by the great 
violinist, Joachim. In one year I shall 
enter there, and be again a High School 

"I study theory, harmony, composition, 
directing violin and piano. Theory is very 
interesting — like solving algebraic prob- 
lems, or geometrical propositions. I spend, 
on an average, ten hours per day on my 
practice and study, and have come to the 
conclusion that an I. H. S. student has no 
right to grumble at the amount of study 
that is expected of him. 

"Berlin is a beautiful city, well-paved, 
cleanly, with no end of fine streets, parks, 
fountains, monuments, bridges, and other 
ornamental works. Every bridge that 
spans the canal which runs through the 
city is a work of art, and is named after 
some great man, deed or event. The 
streets, however, are not laid out regu- 
larly as are our streets, but run in every 
direction imaginable, but I think this 
adds to the city's beauty for it adds variety. 

"Almost every other person whom you 
see is a soldier, always in full uniform, 
with spurs on his boots and wearing a 
sword. The policemen all wear white kid 
gloves, and look as if they had just es- 
caped from a bandbox. 

"I heard a concert given yesterday by 
the finest orchestra in tlie world, in the 
Koyal Opera House. This orchestra has 
one hundred and five members, but they 
do not all play at one concert. The op- 
era is grand, and it is worth coming to 
Berlin for the music alone." 

The human heart 
Finds nowhere shelter but in human kind. 

George Eliot, 


O laughing, lilting villanelle, 

O song of music and of grace, 
Like rippling chime of sweet-toned bell, 

Drive to her solitary cell 

Pale Sorrow of the mournful face, 
O laughing, lilting villanelle; 

All sighs and moans and tears dispel, 

And let thy music fill their place, 
Like rippling chime of sweet-toned bell ; 

Throw for a moment thy sweet spell 

O'er Love in his mad, wayward chase, 
O laughing, lilting villanelle. 

That he may all his secrets tell 

For you to voice with careless grace. 
Like ripping chime of sweet-toned bell. 

Sweet springtide song, let thy sounds swell 

With mirth and love in equal pace, 
O laughing, lilting villanelle. 
Like rippling chime of sweet-toned bell. 

Wilbur Abbott, '86. 


(Class of '89.) 

WERBERT G. HCJFFORD has left us 
in his journal an evidence of how 
truly he saw and how deeply he felt and 
thought. The oncoming Spring must ever 
appear more tender to those who have 
seen it through his eyes. He has put our 
own flowers and landscapes on his pages 
with the touch of a true artist. His story 
of the wrens has lent a new interest to 
every bird in our own door yard. 

What Thoreau did for Concord, he has 
done for the country around Indianapolis, 
Ills journal brings to the minds of some of 
his readers White of Selbourne, to others, 
Theocritus, and to all of them a sweet in-. 
fluence that makes the world better because. 
of him. 




November 28, Thanksgiving. — To-day 
brings with it the first fall of snow and 
the first real sharpness in the air. For the 
last few days past, while we have been 
busily at work preparing good things in 
honor of the day, the elements have not 
been idle, though without noise or bustle. 
Nature placed a thick curtain of dark 
clouds across the firmament to screen her 
workshop from the gaze of man. Now, 
when her preparations are completed, the 
curtain being no longer needed, she grinds 
it up into snow, the most exquisitely beau- 
tiful example of her handicraft, and sifts 
it softly and silently down, and over, and 
around the abode of man. 

As we stand around the fire, my brother, 
who is standing before the window, calls 
me to look at a large bird in a maple just 
outside the window, and which he calls a 
robin. It is, however, a yellow hammer 
perched on a thin twig just as a sparrow 
or any regular perching bird would alight. 
He looks ill at ease, and probably feels so, 
as there are nine or ten sparrows gathered 
around him. As the snow and ice together 
had partly encased the trees with a hard 
coat, he was probably driven from his 
native haunt to seek his breakfast in the 

How forlorn he looks, tossed this way 
and that by the wind, and continually 
menaced by the sparrows, who dart at him 
if he makes a move ! Now he has changed 
his position and flown to a large cotton- 
wood in the next yard, this time alighting 
in the usual way, square up against the 
bark of the trunk. He does not seem to 
find a single eatable and is soon ofi" for 
foreign parts. I wondered what he had to 
be thankful for. But I need not think 
long; while he has his freedom, the food 

question will not trouble him much. If 
his supply be entirely shut oiF here, he has 
but to spread his wings before that north 
wind and be, in a few hours at the most, 
with his friends in warmer climes. 

March 30. — The wind blows chill this 
afternoon. Spring still holds aloof. She 
is not to be won in a day or a month. I 
think she will soon yield to old Sol's en- 

The tree-tops hold many tiny warblers 
to-day, representing the skirmish line of 
the great army that will soon follow. 
How silent are the woods, as if no great 
change were going on beneath the gray 
bark! Nature always prefers to w^ork un- 
der cover, behind the screen, and reveal to 
our eyes the completed and perfect picture. 

The day hangs fire, as yet uncertain 
whether to smile or cry. 

The sky is a great blue harbor, receiving 
and sending forth a thousand ships every 
day. What a mighty trafiic is carried on 
up there ! Constant crossing and recross- 
ing. Sometimes a cargo is spilled, and we 
here below reap the fruits. To-day being 
Sunday, the great white ships hove to and 
cast anchor. There they lie all along the 
horizon, a mighty squadron, motionless 
and silent, idly watching the progress of 
the drama below. Spectators now, but 
with a part to perform when next the cur- 
tain rises. 

April 6. — How uncertain are these April 
skies! The atmosphere is like a huge 
bucket filled to an even b'im — the slightest 
jar and down falls the surface w^ater. 

These are days of intense feeling, when 
smiles and tears play tag across the deep, 
blue-vaulted eye. Nature hardly knows 
whether to be glad or sad over winter's 
riddance. How cool and refreshing are 
the evenings ^-fter such sunshine-shower 
days ! 





We, summing up the two forces of heat 
and cold at eventide, lind the scales about 
equal, and rest in sweet enjoyment on the 
scale balance. The clouds look like gray 
brain matter; what twistings and contor- 
tions the mighty thoughts evoke in their 
evolution to distinct formation ! 

Our existence here is not one life, but 
made up of a thousand lives, each limited 
to a day. Evening is a suitable time for 
reflection. Men sit in their windows intent 
upon the fast waning day. Their eyes fol- 
low the sinking sun, till, ebbing lower and 
lower in the west, the great heart throbs 
its last, and another day is gathered to its 
fathers. But the mind's eye will follow 
on, conversing with the fancies and phan- 
toms of the after glow. Night finds us 
still groping on the border of an impassa- 
ble river. 

April 10. — Spring is like the sunrise of 
the year. Summer flows along vpith the 
healthy current of middle life. Autumn, 
the golden old age, lingers, with hazj^ 
thoughtful eye, over the fruits ripened 
from seed sown in early days, then slips 
silently away before the advancing winter. 
>i< >i< * * * * 

Why sit still and ask for miracles as the 
evidence of God ? Wherein shall the God- 
Creator, the power behind the universe, be 
evident but in his works. Our words belie 
our belief. Wherefore doth man exist in 
himself! Let him exterminate life and re- 
kindle the spark, or cut off a limb and 
supply its place, or put out an eye and re- 
instate sight. He that doubts his own 
power believes in a God. 

Children are seeds sown in the soil, the 
upper crust. The flrst nourishment is the 
first root started downward into the earth. 
Yet, what were roots unless it be to supply 
the plant that is springing in the upper 
air? And of what avail is the earth-root 

unless its food supply be converted into 
nourishment for tlie soul? See, therefore, 
that your main tap-root, your life work, 
never loses connection with the upper air, 


Borne about by the winds, in tlie afternoon glory and 

Floating about in the haze, lly the dying leaves of the 

Gorgeous and gay in their dresses, their garnjents of 

splendor and beauty. 
Yellow, and red, and Ijrown, the colors of nature's own 

choosing ; 
Yet, though sadly they fall, not idle and useless 

their falling. 
Wrapping the earth in a mantle, a blanket of scarlet 

and crimson. 
Heavy, and warm, and thick, protecting the seedlings 

and berries, 
Keeping away the frost, and the icy cr^'stals of winter ; 
Saving them safely and well, till the coming of spring 

and the sunshine 
Rescues them from the dark, the darkness of winter's 

sad shadow ; 
Upward they spring and shine as joy, overturning our 

Lightens the dark and the gloom, and leaves us hopeful 

and happy. 

George Aecheb Ferguson, '94. 

When any one remains modest, not after 
praise, but after censure, then he is really 

Every lie is a happy sign that there is 
still truth in the world. 

Women who read prefaces and notes are 
of some significance. 

Jean Paul Riciiter. 

Man's life was made, not for luen's creeds, 
But men's actions. 

Owen Meredith. 




The dim light falls upon her upturned face, 

Which gleams white, spirit-like 

As the carved crucifix of stone 

She kneels before. The sweetness of the face 

Of Christ reflects she in her own. 

A yearning is there in her holy eyes ; 

God's love tills her pure heart, 

His dear Son deeply she reveres. 

Yet in her woman's soul an earthly love 

Had grown, nurtured by hopeless tears. 

So, as a child at night-fall, wearily 

Turns from his broken toys 

Which have made glad the sunny day. 

She left the world, but twilight now for her, 

And now she kneels to pray. 

"O Father merciful, Thou knowest all 
Thy children suffer here. 
I thank thee I have learned to feel 
The depth, the blessedness of human love. 
Thy love divine to me reveal !" 

Grace Smith, '90. 

George Reisner ('85) entered Harvard 
College without conditions and maintained 
a very high rank throughout his course, 
gaining several scholarships through com- 
petitive examinations. He especially dis- 
tinguished himself by his proficiency in 
Semitic languages. After his graduation, 
he was appointed an instructor, and, con- 
tinuing his studies, took the degree of Ph. 
D. Two years ago, he won the highest fel- 
lowship in the gift of Harvard, the " Rogers 
Fellowship," which gave him the privilege 
of study abroad. He is pursuing his 
language studies in Berlin. He has in 
process of preparation an Assyrian gram- 
mar and a Phcienician dictionary. His wife, 
Mary Bronson ('88), is with him. 

Lydia Blaich ('88) has the honor of being 
the first woman ever admitted to the great 

German Practice School in Pedagogy at 
Jena. This school, under the directorship 
of Dr. Rein, is the exponent of the edu- 
cational principles of Herbart, and is the 
only school of its kind in the world. Miss 
Blaich is not permitted to attend the Uni- 
versity lectures, but she is admitted to the 
practice school for the training of teachers, 
and, since she boards in the family of Dr. 
Rein, she receives the benefit of his lectures 
by reading his manuscripts. Miss Blaich 
was selected to receive the benefit of one of 
the Gregg scholarships because of her suc- 
cess as a teacher. Tlie bequest of Mr. 
Gi'egg has enabled the Indianapolis School 
Board to take an entirely new step in edu- 
cational methods, viz. : to send two teachers 
each year to study practical pedagogy 
wherever the best opportunities are af- 

A goodly number of our graduates have 
adopted the profession of journalism ; they 
are represented upon the stati" of the prin- 
cipal Indianapolis dailies. 

Henry Palmer ('89) is now attending 
Chicago University for the purpose of 
preparing himself for a journalist. 

During the present year, some special 
honors have been taken at higher institu- 
tions. Lee Elam ('94) took one of the Arm- 
strong; prizes, given annually to members 
of the Freshman class at Amherst College, 
for excellence in English composition. 

Max Bahr ('93) took the prize offered for 
the highest grade reached in the second 
year of the course at the Central College 
of Physicians and Surgeons, Indianapolis. 

The prize for superior scholarship in 
Greek at Butler College was taken by 
Jessie Christian ('93). 




rr\0 EATERY loyal graduate it is a mat- 
J_ ter of much interest to discover the 
condition and whereabouts of the many 
who, with him, were wont to tread the 
thorny [latli of knowledge in our beloved 
High School. With this in view, an at- 
tempt has been made to secure a complete 
record of the Alumni for publication in 
this year's Annual, t ut we have met with 
only partial success. From many of the 
classes we have heard nothing, and from 
others the report has given but meagre in- 
formation. We thank those who have en- 
deavored to answer our questions concern- 
ing their class, and hope that in next year's 
Annual a more complete record may be 
given We publish the following report, 
not claiming that it is positively accurate, 
but believing it in the main to be true: 

In the thirty-eight classes, dating from 
the year 1869 until the present time, 1,530 
students have been graduated from tlie 
Indianapolis High School. 

Class of '69. Membership, 5. 

Class of '70. Membership, 10. The num- 
ber having attended college, 1. The num- 
ber of lawyers, 1 ; teachers, 1 ; in business, 
3; deceased, 8; married, 7. 

Class of '71. Membership, 13. The 
number of ministers, 1; teachers, 8; in 
business, 2 ; deceased, 1 ; married, 9. 

Class of '72. Membership, 7. The num- 
ber having attended college, 2 ; colleges 
represented, Indiana University and Mich- 
igan University. The number of teachers, 
2; in other professions, 1 ; in business, 2 ; 
deceased, 2 ; married, 4. 

Class of '73. Membership, 13. The num- 
ber having attended college, 4; colleges 
represented, Ann Arbor, Wabash, Boston 
School of Oratory, and Glendale. The num- 
ber of doctors, 1 ; teachers, 3 ; in other 

professions, 1; in business, 2; deceased, 1; 
married, 8. 

Class of '74. Membership, 11. The num- 
having attended college, 1 ; college repre- 
sented, Cornell University. The number 
of lawyers, 1 ; teachers, 2 ; deceased, 1 ; 
married, 6. 

Class of '77. Membership, 26. The num- 
ber having attended college, 7; colleges 
represented, Ann Arbor, Butler, Wabash. 
The number of lawyers, 5; teachers, 8; in 
business, 3; deceased, 4; married, 13. 

Class of '78. Membership, 31. The 
number having attended college, 10; col- 
leges represented, Butler, Wabash, Ann 
Arbor, Medical College of Indiana, West 
Point Military Academy. The number of 
lawyers, 2 ; doctors, 3 ; teachers, 12 ; in bus- 
iness, 8; deceased, 4; married, 11. 

Class of '82. Membership, 70. The num- 
ber having attended college, 4; colleges 
represented, Yale, Purdue, DePauw. The 
number of lawyers, 2 ; doctors, 2 ; teachers, 
24 ; journalists, 1 ; in other professions, 2; 
in business, 16; deceased, 6; married, 33. 

Class of '83. Membership, 41. The 
number liaving attended college, 3; col- 
leges represented, Cornell and DePauw. 
The number of lawyers, 1 ; teachers, 12 ; in 
business, 4; deceased, 1 ; married, 13. 

Class of June, '84. Membership, 46. 
The number having attended college, 5; 
colleges represented, Cornell, Butler and 
Vassar. The number of lawyers, 2; teach- 
ers, 8; journalists, 1; in other professions, 
1 ; in business, 6; married, 6. 

Class of January, '85. Membership, 12. 
The number having attended college, 1 ; 
college represented. Harvard. The num- 
ber of teachers, 2 ; deceased, 1 ; married, 4. 

Class of June, '85. Membership, 56 The 
number having attended college, 7; col- 
leges represented, Vassar, Rose Polytech- 
nic, DePauw. The number of teachers, 



2 ; journalists, 1 ; in business, 4; deceased, 
3 ; married, 10. 

Class of January, '86. Membership, 26. 
The number having attended college, 1 ; 
college represented, Wabash. The number 
of lawyers, 1; teachers, 4; of other pro- 
fessions, 1 ; in business, 2 ; married, 7. 

Class of June, '86. Membership, 50. The 
number having attended college, 3 ; colleges 
represented, Harvard, Vassar and DePauw. 
The number of lawyers, 3; teachers, 13; 
other professions, 1 ; in business, 2 ; de- 
ceased, 7 ; married, 11. 

Class of February, '87. Membership, 26. 
The number having attended college, 3; 
colleges represented, Indiana University, 
Ann Arbor, Cornell. The number of law- 
yers, 1; teachers, 3; journalists, 1; other 
professions, 4; in business, 1 ; deceased, 1; 
married, 8. 

Classof June, "87. Membership, 49. The 
number having attended college, 6 ; colleges 
represented, Butler, Indiana University, 
Bryn Mawr, DePauw. The number of 
lawyers, 1 ; teachers, 14 ; other professions, 
2; in business, 4; deceased, 1; married, 9. 
Class of February, '88. Membership, 26. 
The number having attended college, 5; 
colleges represented, Butler, DePauw. The 
number of doctors, 3; teachers, 9; in busi- 
ness, 3 ; deceased, 2 ; married, 4. 

Class of June, '88. Membership, 58. The 
number having attended college, 16; col- 
leges represented, Wabash, Indiana Uni- 
versity, DePauw, Butler, Purdue, Glendale 
Seminary, Cornell, Smith, State Normal. 
The number of lawyers, 2; doctors, 1; 
teachers, 14; journalists, 1; in other pro- 
fessions, 1; in business, 15; deceased, 2; 
married, 12. 

Class of February, '89. Membership, 30. 
The number having attended college, 2; 
colleges represented, Wabash and Cornell. 

The number having become lawyers, 1 ; 
doctors, 1; teachers, 6; in business, 6; de- 
ceased, 2 ; married, 3. 

Classof June, '89. Membership, 52. The 
number having attended college, 6 ; col- 
leges represented, Butler, Rose Poly- 
technic, Chicago University, University of 
Michigan, Indiana University, Wabash, 
Amherst. The number of doctors, 1 ; min- 
isters, 1 ; teachers, 19; journalists, 2; other 
professions, 2 ; in business, 10; deceased, 3; 
married, 8. 

Class of February, '90. Membership, 28. 
The number having attended college, 6 ; 
colleges represented, DePauw, Ann Arbor, 
Wabash, Smith, Indiana University. The 
number of lawyers, 1 ; doctors, 1 ; teachers, 
9 ; in business, 7 ; married, 2. 

Class of June, '90. Membership, 45. The 
number having attended college, 3 ; colleges 
represented, Wabash, DePauw and Indi- 
ana University. The number of teachers, 
12; journalists, 1; in other professions, 1; 
in business, 13 ; deceased, 2 ; married, 4. 

Class of February, '91. Membership, 51. 
The number having attended college, 4; 
colleges represented, Yassar, Oberlin, Indi- 
ana University. The number of teachers, 
2 ; in other professions, 1 ; in business, 11 ; 
deceased, 1 ; married, 5. 

Class of June, '91. Membership, 65. The 
number having attended college, 7 ; col- 
leges represented, Butler, Yale, Indiana 
University, DePauw, Leland Stanford. 
The number of lawyers, 1; teachers, 13; 
in other professions, 1; in business, 5; de- 
ceased, 2; married, ^. 

Class of February, '92. Membership, 38. 
The number of teachers, 5 ; in other profes- 
sions, 1 ; in business, 6; married, 9. 

Class of June, "92. Membership, 49. The 
number having attended college, 7; col- 
leges represented, Purdue, Butler, Yassar, 



DePauw, Leland Stanford, Ann Arbor. 
The number of teachers, 7; doctors, 1; in 
business, 7; deceased, 1; married, 1. 

Class of Februarj^, '93. Membership, 45. 
The number having attended college, 3 : 
colleges represented, DePauw, Butler, Ann 
Arbor. The number of lawyers, 2 ; doctors, 
2; teachers, 11 ; in business, 10 ; deceased, 
1 ; married, 6. 

Class of June, '93. Membership, 84. The 
number having attended college, 10 ; col- 
leges represented, Butler, Vassar, Purdue, 
Indiana University, Medical College of 
Indiana. The number of doctors, 2; 
teachers, 11; in business, 8; married, 3. 

Class of February, '94. Membership, 50. 
The number having attended college, 12; 
colleges represented, Howard Seminary, 
DePauw, Butler, Boston School of Tech- 
nology, Chicago University, Franklin, 
Wabash, Indiana University, Ann Arbor, 
La Salle. The number of lawyers, 1 ; 
teachers, 17; musicians, 2; in business, 8. 

Class of June, '94. Membership, 74. 
The number having attended college, 12 ; 
colleges represented, Wabash, Indiana Uni- 
versity, Amherst, DePauw, Butler, Frank- 
lin, Columbia, Oxford. The number of 
lawyers, 1 ; doctors, 1 ; teachers, 10 ; in 
business, 7. 

Class of Februaiy, '95. Membership, 43. 
The number in business, 3. 


The Association of High School Gradu- 
ates will hold its annual reunion in High 
School Hall, on the evening of June 14. 
An hour will be spent in recalling past 
experiences and in forecasting the happy 
future. After the conclusion of the special 
programme, the remainder of the evening- 
will be devoted to social refreshment. It 
is hoped that this eighth meeting of the 
Association will be attended by a large pro- 
portion of the lifteen hundred graduates. 

High erected thoughts, seated in a heart 
of courtesy. Sir Philip Sidney. 

Bt)t he 

To whom a thousand memories call, 

Not being less but more than all 
The gentleness he seemed to be, 

But seemed the thing he was, and joined 

Each office of the social hour 

To noble manners, as the flower 
And native growth of noble mind ; 

Nor ever narrowness or spite 

Or villain fancy fleeting by. 

Drew in the expression of an eye 
Where God and Nature met in light; 

And thus he bore without abuse 

The grand old name of gentleman, 

Defamed by every charlatan, 
And soiled with all ignoble use. 


There is a small but ancient fraternity in 
the world known as the Order of Gentle- 
men. It is a grand old order. A poet has 
said that Christ founded it; that " He was 
the first true gentleman that ever lived." 

The formulas of this order are not edited ; 
its passwords are not syllabled ; its uniform 
was never pictured in a fashion-plate, or so 
described that a snob could go to his tailor 
and say, " Make me the habit of a gentle- 
man." But the brothers know each other 
unerringly whenever they meet ; be they 
of the inner shrine, gentlemen in heart and 
life; be they of the outer court, gentlemen 
in feeling and demeanor. 

No disguise delays this recognition. No 
strangeness of place and circumstance pre- 
vents it. The men meet. The magnetism 
passes between them. All is said without 
words. Gentlemen know gentlemen by 
what we name instinct. But observe that 
this thing, instinct, is character in its finest, 
keenest, largest and most concentrated 
action. It is the spirit's touch. 

Theodore Winthrop. 




Colors : Old rose and white. 

Motto : Love Virtue ; She Alone is Free. 



Clara Adair, 
Isadora Bartholomew, 
Izora Brooks, 
Lida CornvvalJ, 
Bertie Cromer, 
Amelia DeMotte, 
Laura Dewald, 
Katherine Godown, 
Frank W. Heiskell, 
Edna Heller, 
Ralph H. Helm, 
Evangeline B. Hutchinson 
Anna B. .Jones, 
Hettie P. .Toslin, 
Emilie L. Kipp, 
Mary De F. Marsee, 
Emy Martin, 


Elizabeth I. Miller, 
Nellie Moore, 
Glenn Morgan, 
Mattie Myers, 
Edna G. JSTowland, 
Nora M. O'Harrow, 
Eleanor Porter, 
George I. Reeves, 
Kate P. Smith, 
.Jessie Snyder, 
June Southern, 

, Stella E. Sullivan, 
Helen Todd, 
Clara Twiname, 
Bertha L. Walker, 
Clara Wells, 
Nellie Whitson, 


Joshua Binkley, 
Mary E. Colter, 
Myrta Hob art 
Jjinda H. .Jose, 


Winfield S. Lanfersick, 
James H. Manion, 
Catherine A. Pearce, 
Effie L. Reed, 
Lena B. Sloan. 


'love virtue, she alone is free. 

" We enter now upon a strife. 

That ends alone with close of life; 

But while we struggle on our way. 

When dark'ning night shuts out the light of day. 

On threat'ning clouds these words we .see, 
' Love virtue, she alone is free.' 

"Aye, virtue, follow thee we will. 

Will honor, love, obey thee still. 

No swamp-fire's fatal gleam will lure 

Us from thy side, where all is pure. 

These words our inspiration be — 
' Love virtue, she alone is free.' " 

Bertie M. Cromer, Feb., ^95. 


Colors : Purple and white. 

Motto : Self-Conquest is True Victory, 

Edwin Andrews, 
Anna Arinbruster, 
Ralph Belcher, 
Edna Bell, 


Mabel Hood, 
Hattie Hosmer, 
Josephine .IlifT, 
Brodie Jenkins, 

Susie r)rown. 
Frost Buchtel, 
.Josephine Canfield, 
Roger Capen, 
Fay Chandler, 
Henry Churchman, 
Robert Churchman, 
Susie Clarke, 
Agnes Cox, 
Alwin Craft, 
Myra Daggett, 
Jessie Dalrymple, 
Mary Darrow, 
Newton Dashiell, 
Thomas David, 
Mary Davis, 
Mary Deputy, 
Fred. Dickson, 
P'lora Drake, 
Minnie Elbert, 
Ella Emerson, 
Leeper English, 
Eva Erzinger, 
Beulah Evans, 
Edward Findling, 
Maria Foster, 
Ida Foudray, 
Lelia Furnas, 
Kate Goldriek, 
Lucy Hadlev, 
Wm". Hall,' 
Turner Harrison, 
Raymond Haskell, 
Daisy Hendrix, 
Parker Hitt, 
Charlotte Holland, 
Alex. Holliday, 
Estella Hollingsworth, 

.James .Judson, 
Charlotte Ketcham, 
Flora Ketcham, 
Addie Kiler, 
Daisy Kingsbury, 
Allan Laurie, 
Frieda Lipman, 
Clara Ludorf, 
Paul Mavity, 
Mary Mayhugh, 
Clara Mays, 
Bertha McGutRn, 
Will McMaster, 
Mary Meek, 
Elsie Meier, ■ 
Tryphena Mitchell, 
Isabella Nichols, 
Paul Paver, 
Ada Peehl, 
Esther Pickerill, 
Anna Rahe, 
Arthur Randall, 
Ernest Rinehart, 
Anna Rodney, 
Will Rondthaler, 
Otto Eudy, 
Gertrude Schofield, 
Mary Schofield, 
Imogene Shaw, 
Lenora Smith, 
Lulu Stumph, 
Gertrude Taggart, 
Lillian Taggart, 
Anna Tingle, 
Mera Tousey, 
Caroline Townsend, 
Georgia Trueblood, 
Dow Vorhies. 


From our lives the dawn is gliding 

Into bright and serene day. 
Golden sunshine floods the pathway, 

Where once gloomy shadows lay. 
Sweet have been the hours of study, 

When before us one by one. 
Clouds of darkness turned to dewdrops. 

Glittering in the rising sun. 

Though we go from our school duties, 

Wheresoever we may rove, 
We shall be in life's great class-room. 

To be fitted for above. 
Truth shall be our loving teacher. 

Faith, the power by which we win, 
Hope, the star that points us onward, 

Righteousness, our shield from sin. 

Never shall the truths imparted. 

From our memories fade away, 
But will ever lead us onward. 

In the straight and narrow way. 
Trusting Him who watches o'er us, 

Fear shall not our portion be; 
Nor shall we forget our motto, 

"Self-conquest is true victory." 

— Bertha McGuffin, Jun 



President — Day Pattison. 
Secretary — Macy Good. 
Treasurer — Henry' Churchman. 

board of directors. 

Mr. G. W. Hufford, 
Mr. a. I. DoTEY, 
Mr. J. E. HiGDON. 

Fred Dickson, 
Walter Somerville, 
Ernest Rinehart, 
Keyes Winter, 
Day Pattison, 
Macy S. Good. 

THE Athletic Association, after hiber- 
nating since the close of the foot-ball 
season last fall, has reorganized with re- 
newed vigor, and, though several of the old 
and hard workers of the organization have 
ended their school days since our last tield- 
day, a good number still remain, and many 
new ones have been added to the lists. 

This increase in numbers is due to the 
successful iield-meet of last year, which 
was not only a success in the way of events 
and records, but financially, which is an 
important matter. Many who hesitated 
last year to enter the list of events will 
undoubtedly do so this year. And it is 
well that they should, for the more that 
take part in an event, the better it will be 
as an event and to the spectators. 

The students of the Industrial School 
have been invited to take part in the field- 
day events this year, and it is hoped that 
they will make a good showing and in- 

crease the interest in athletics in their 
school It was discussed whether to have 
Butler join us in the field-day, but the ma- 
jority thought the Butler students would 
out-class us and carry oflT the greater 
part of the prizes, so the question was 

Another question which has received 
much attention is that of a gymnasium. 
It was hoped, at the time of the writing 
of the last Annual, that this June would 
see a gymnasium begun, at least; but, 
alas ! our hopes were in vain. The many 
advantages of a gymnasium are so self- 
evident that it would be waste of time 
and space to state them Either the School 
Board has not heard our plea, or has 
turned a deaf ear to it. We hope that 
they will soon fit up a gymnasium for us, 
and thus better the physical condition of 
our students as well as their mental facul- 
ties. R. H. 





The A. A. has 125 active niemhers. 

Field day, June 1. Everybody go to the 
Fair Grounds. 

Macy Good is the all round business 
man of the Association. 

Wanted — A collector. He must be a 
second Corbett. Address the Secretary of 
the Athletic Association. 

Question — The members of the Associa- 
tion wish to know if ex-Pres. Jelletf ever 
did pay up his dues? 

Answer — It is not a known fact that he 
did, but when questioned, Mr. Jelleff 
answered, with a Rip Van Winkle look, 
that he thought he had. 

The craze for athletics is still abroad in 
the land, and it is hoped that, when Ave get 
our gymnasium, many of the girls will be- 
come members of the Association. 

Have you ever visited the attic of the 
school? It runs the entire length of the 
building, and though uncouth in appear- 
ance, because of its beams and rafters, one 
end could easily, and with small expense, 
be raade into a pleasant and suitable gym- 
nasium until a better one is secured. The 
lack of a gymnasium and a physical direc- 
tor are sadly felt, and it is much credit to 
the boys that they did so well last field- 
day. Let it be hoped that by June, '96, 
such accommodations will be had. 


Watch the former records go to pieces. 

Prizes from the merchants of the city 
have been solicited and received for each 

AH we want now is such a day as caused 
Lowell to write, "And what is so rare as a 
day in June? " 

It is greatly regretted tliat the Annual 
is issued too early to give the results of 
the field-meet. 

All the records made last field-day will 
undoubtedly be broken this year, although 
the facilities for training have not been im- 
proved any. 

Evidently royal field-days were held in 
ancient Egypt, for history tells us that 
Rameses II ''broke the records" of many 
of his predecessors. 

The programme for field day will be the 
same as last 3'ear, with the exception of 
the three-legged race, for which the 440- 
yard dash will be introduced, and the ad- 
dition of the pole-vault. The tennis con- 
tests will also be omitted, as the interest in 
tennis is rather slack, and the grounds 
have not been put in playing order. 

SOME forecasts. 

Paul Mavity is a sure winner in the 
liigh-jumps and pole-vault. Paul is pretty 
high himself. 

Harry Conduitt, Tom David, and Alex 
Craig expect to do some fast work on the 
wheel. Surely there is an amateur Zim- 
merman among them. 

Frank Baker, Walter Somerville and 

Clarence are looked upon as wonders 

in the way of sprinters. Honors will be 
evenly divided among these three 

In the long distance running, Keyes 
Winter will make a great hit. 

Robert Hobbs will surely win the one- 
mile walk. 

Frost Buchtel and Adolph Schleicher 
will be the shot putters and hammer- 

As to who will be the all-round cham- 
pion it is hard to say, as "dark horses" 
are numerous. 




Still the cycling club has not been or- 

More room and better accommodations 
are needed for the wheels at Higli School. 

There are fifty or sixty bicyclers in the 
association, several of whom are very 

Our A. A. expects to win the State 
championship. — L. A. W. 

With the light wheels this year, many 
good records should be made. 

The bicycle races are one of the most 
interesting features of the field-day events, 
and as many as possible should enter. 



O. Queisser, c. 
F. Queisser, p 
Rinehart, ss 
Somerville or 


1 b. 

Pattison, 2 b. 
Martin, 3 b. 
Camp, 1. f. 
Brunson, c. f. 
Baker, r. f. 


Our base ball team is a howling success 
for the first season. 

Ernest Rinehart, as captain, plays a fine 
game in shortstop. 

When the ball gets past Long Somerville 
on first, the game will surely be lost, as he 
is a sure catch. 

Martin, the colored third baseman, is the 
pride of the team. 

The " Queisser" battery has a wide rep- 
utation. Snake curves are their favorites. 

"Hazel" Pattison manages to hold 
second base in good style. 

Fred. Dickson, who fills the place of 
manager, has had phenomenal success and 
is becoming known as a base ball magnate. 

Wg wisli the boys all success, and hope 
they will do as well as the foot ball team of 
last season. 

While there was plenty of enthusiasm 
manifested at the beginning of this season, 
worth}' applicants for positions on the base 
ball team were scarce, yet steady, earnest 
practice has worked wonders. Of last 
year's team, only six players were in school. 
Four of these, however, showed them- 
selves in good condition. After some 
trouble, the team Avas selected. 0. 
Queisser is an excellent catcher and good 
batter. He is large and has no trouble in 
throwing to bases. F. Queisser is a reliable 
pitcher and a good batter. The two make 
a fine battery. Fii-st base gave some 
trouble. Somerville was well fitted for the 
place, but lacked the experience of Pen- 
nington. Pattison filled second well and 
bats finely. More practice would develop 
him into a star in-fielder. His base running 
is good. Martin is a splendid third base- 
man. Though he is an out-fielder, earnest 
work has developed him into a splendid in- 
fielder. He throws and bats extremely 
well. Camp covers left field and bats fairly 
well and opportunely. He is a good change 
catcher. Brunson holds center pretty well 
and bats finely. He pitches well, though 
young, and is a very promising player. 
Baker plays right field well for so hard a 
position, yet his good batting and earnest 
work win him a place on the team. 

Looking over the previous teams, I think 
we have the most evenly balanced team 
since I have played. It was better organ- 
ized than '92 and was picked from more 
players. In '93 I had the most good play- 
ers at hand, but I was younger and green 
at captaining a school ball team, conse- 
quently we played a brilliant erratic game, 
weak at certain positions and lacking team 
work. In '94 base ball died out after 



two games were played This year we 
have been unfortunate in the games; how- 
ever, we have shown up well in our hard- 
est games. The fielding is more certain 
and the old reputation of batiing has been 
augmented. High School need not be 
ashamed of the team of '95. 

Bob Rtnehart, 



Harvey Moore, o. 
Ira Fox worthy, r. g, 
Adolph Schleicher, 
Stetson Parker, r. t. 
Macy Good, 1. t. 


-John Sickler, 1. e. 
Will Hall, q. b. 
Keyes Winter, r. h. b. 
Ed. Holliday, 1. h. b. 
Ernest Rinehart, f. b. 

Stewart Dean, r. e. 

Among the substitutes were : Walter 
Somerville, Jim Jordan, Chas. Kettenbach, 
Frost Buchtel, and Owen Mothershead 


The foot ball season was a very success- 
ful one, six games being played, only one 
of which was lost. I. H. S. scored 116 
points to 4 ag'ainst them. 

A finer team was never placed in the 
field by a High School. 

I. H. S. now claims the interscholastic 
championship of the State. 

Keyes Winter and "Bill" Hall were the 
star runners of the team. 

Parker and Foxworthy were two indi- 
viduals who could be depended upon to 
"buck the line" for a good gain. 

" Bob " Rinehart, the full back, made a 
fine record at kicking goal, only failing to 
kick one goal during the entire season. 

When " Baby " Moore, managed to get 
down, there was bound to be an opening. 

The only " kick " against " Stew " Dean 
was his mustache, as several players were 
injured by coming in contact with that 

The only complaint tlie team have to 
make from the season's play was the din- 
ner they received at Anderson. Foot-ball 
players are trained to stand rough usage, 
V)ut surely this was too much We warn 
the base-ball team to be on the lookout, 
for we hear they have a game booked in 
that city. 




I HAD only just returned from mj' ten 
years of residence in London. It was 
a dinner party at the Smithers", and after 
a pleasant chat with my neighbor on 
the left, I thought I might find the 
quiet and serenely dressed friend to the 
right, interesting. She had a sweet and 
strong face, with large, gentle, brown eyes, 
and the face looked very familiar. I felt 
that sometime in my past life this little 
woman and myself must have met. I 
could not resist inquiring the name, and 
who should it prove to be but my old 
schoolmate and the star of our class. Ber- 
tha Walker? Of course we fell to talking 
of old times and school days. The com- 
mencement exercises, now nearly twenty 
years ago, seemed but yesterday, as we 
talked of the girls' gowns ; and, by the 
way, how quaint those huge sleeves would 
look to-da}^ among our close-fitting ones ! 
And what of Kate Smith and Amelia De 
Motte? I asked. Imagine my surprise on 
hearing that Miss De Motte was in a short 
time, to lead Mr. George Reeves as a third 
victim to the matrimonial altar. Kate 
Smith is now Miss Smith, the president 
of a "Home for Maiden Ladies." Several 
of our schoolmates reside with her, among 
whom I particularly remember Edna Hel- 
ler, Nellie Whitson, Laura Dewald, and 
Elizabeth Miller. They have a beautiful 
home and the motto which confronts you 
on entering is, "Abandon hope all ye who 
enter here." 

Is it not strange how diverse the paths 
of school-mates tend? Emy Martin and 
Anna B. Jones have gone as missionaries 
to China, and our own dear brother, Glenn 
Morgan, has borne all the hardships which 
befall a minister of the Seventh-Day Ad- 
ventists' Church. As I listened to Bertha's 

accounts, I felt very proud to think that I 
was a member of the February class of '95. 
She told of Isadora Bartholomew and her 
career as one of the leading electricians of 
the day; of Bertie Cromer, whose poetical 
works, if not famous, will ever be cher- 
ished by her friends; of Mattie Myers, 
whose sweet voice and charming person- 
ality have for two years held the New 
York audiences. Kathryn Godown and 
Lida Cornwall have put aside this frivolous 
world, and may be seen any day in the 
streets of Indianapolis, passing from door 
to door, their sweet faces peering out from 
beneath the solemn black and white bon- 

Did you ever think that a simple essay 
on aerial navigation and a little flying with 
the coat-tails might produce a great trav- 
eler of the ethereal regions? It was but 
yesterday that I read of the extended trip 
to be made by the noted Mr. Helm and 
his perfected flying machine. It is said 
he has made quite a fortune, and the rail- 
roads in the western country are rapidly 
breaking up. 

Miss Snyder is quite an artist, portraits 
being her specialty, and you certainly have 
long ere now, heard of the popular trage- 
dies by Nellie Moore. 

With the exception of Frank lieiskell, 
who is now a Senator from Indiana, you 
have heard concerning all whom I have 
been able to trace. 

The question which I had refrained from 
asking until then was concerning' Miss 
Walker herself. In her quiet, modest way 
she told me of her work during the past 
years of struggle for the rights of women. 
I have learned since our interview that she 
traveled the country over speaking indoors 
and out, and was one of the chief factors 
in bringing about the enfranchisement of 



I must again sa}' I feel exceedingly 
proud of onr class, which was ever with 
Mrs. Hufford, not quantity hut quality. 




the members of the June Class 
)f 1895, of the Indianapolis 
High School, on this 11th day of June, 
1895, being the day of our Commencement, 
do hereby determine that on this day, fif- 
teen years hence, all members of this class, 
wherever they may be, shall write an ac- 
count of their chosen avocation and suc- 
cess in life, and mail the same to the 
Corresponding Secretary of the Commit- 
tee, which has this day been appointed by 
the Class to receive such communications. 
These communications shall be read 
before all surviving members of the Class 
met together for this purpose at Indianap- 
olis on June 11th, 1910. 

Mrs. Hufford, Chairman, 

Susie Clark, Cor. Sec, 

Parkek Hitt, 

Frost Buchtel, 


Denison House, [ndianapglis, Ind., } 
June 11th, 1910. I 

Last night this committee met as agreed, 
and read the following communications: 

Washington, D. C, ) 
June 10, 1910. / 
My Dear Miss Clark : 

By an agreement of years past, I now 
send to you this communication. I regret 
very much that I shall not be with you on 
this very enjoyable occasion. 

The world has gone well with me and 
mine, and now, thanks to the ruling of the 
recent Legislature in lowering the requisite 
age of President, I am running as a candi- 
date for the highest oifice in the United 

States. Word is received from all parts of 
the country that my chances are excellent. 

Hoping that I have the good will of the 
class, I am, as always, the well wisher of 
the June class of 1895. 

Frost Buchtel. 

Win. Craft has for several years been 
studying in Paris, and he now has an excel- 
lent French accent. 

Mary Davis has been elected president 
of Sorosis, and is chin deep in dift'erent 
women's cluhs. 

Fred. Dickson, in his excessive interest 
in science, has started an association, which 
in time is expected to rival the Agassiz in 

Frieda Lipman has gained the top round 
of her ladder of ambition. She has grown 
so tall that she can now look down on all 
her associates. 

Ralph Belcher has killed himself with 
too early rising. He always rose before 
four "to swinke with his handes and la- 

Ida Foudray and Sue Brown are touring 
through Europe. All the Old Country is 
in a furore over their technique and manip- 
ulation of the piano-forte. 

Gertrude Taggart graduated with the 
highest honors at Bryn Mawr, the most 
accomplished young woman who has ever 
taken the course there. She and her sister 
are now the proprietors of the most noted 
embroidery emporium in the United States, 
with headquarters in New York. 

Thomas McGee and Ernest liinehart are 
rival representatives for the speakership of 
of the House. 

Harriet Hosmer has succeeded beyond 
all anticipations; she bids fair to excel her 
illustrious predecessor. 

Fay Chandler is president of the Boston 
School of Technology. 




Mersi Tonsey has eollected so many brass 
buttons of various shapes and sizes tliatehe 
has been compelled to hire a safety vault 
with a constant guard of twenty watch- 
men. She spends her entire time in this 
lucrative profession. 

Otto Eudy is another Paganini. 

Kate Goldrick and Tryphena Mitchell 
are now the leading Greek instructors in 

Maria Booster is Mother Superior of St. 
Mary's Seminary in Baltimore. 

Parker Hitt is all the rage as a magazine 

Annie Rodney is mayor of San Francisco. 

Roger Capen has become fam ais by 
translating comic papers into Greek for 
class exercises in our schools. 

William Rondthaler has furnished col- 
lections of pipes to every young woman in 
Indianapolis for years. Each thinks she 
has the largest and most complete collec- 
tion possible. 

Susie Clark's husband is editor of the 
New York World. It is said she is a very 
material assistance to him in his editorials. 

Mabel Hood's oldest young hopeful is 
following in her mother's footsteps. Miss 
Rankin may thank her stars that she has 
not "to teach that young idea how to 

Ola Smith's husband is a second Ward 
McAllister ; she, herself, is much more of 
a society star than her forerunner. 

Miss Belle Nichols, now residing in 
Paris, is the reigning belle of that metrop- 
olis. The fame of her beauty and bril- 
liancy has spread over all the civilized 
world and has brought admirers from the 
four corners of the globe. Her husband, 
however, still holds the first place in her 

Mary Deputy is the champion bareback 
rider of the world. Between seasons, she 
imports debutantes from the "four Imn- 
dred" to her ranch out west and teaches 
them the most approved style of horseman- 
ship. Iler friends always predicted some- 
thing from her inordinate love of that 

Will Hall and a certain young woman 
have purchased a West India Island ; there 

"They live on pigeon pies, 
While he feasts his loving eyes 
On the darling little dimple in her thumb." 

Flora MacDonald KETciiAiM, '05. 

Wealth and dominion fade into the mass 
Of the great sea of human right anil wrong, 
^Vhen once from our possession they must pass, 
But love, though misdirected, is among 
The things which are immortal, and surpass 
All that frail stuff which will be or which was. 



How Keyes Winter underrates the 
ability of girls. 

How the wrong solution can bring the 
correct answer in Miss 's class. 

How to improve the passing minutes 
(of "96). 

That out of the cares and troul)les of 
school we always rnacn good come. 

That even " likes " are sometimes tir^d 
and out of breath. 

What height and breadth of learning our 
High School can boast. 

With what speed our athletics can run^ 
especially into debt. 

How many of us will support ourselves, 
on literature — by selling our old school 






Merchant Tailor, 



Maurice Alerecht, 

i'iO W\«]>4 6i DiRif alls'' BlQcH" 

Of Course ** 

you know all about 


Bargain Book Store. 

This is merely to remind you that he 
has been established in Indianapolis 5>^ years. 
Just long enough to be "in touch" with the 
wants of the trade, and not long enough to 
have a house full of old and shelf-worn goods, 
like some of the "ancients." Specialties in 
books, stationery and engraving. High School 
trade especially solicited. 

John A.Allison, 

No. ^4 N. Pennsylvania St. 


Blank Book Manufacturer, 

prii}ter, Ijtl70(5rapl7er 9 Statiopi^r. 

Special Department for Copper Plate Engraved Visiting Cards, 
Wedding and Party Invitations, Stamped Papers, Etc. 

Office, 21 West Washington St., Indianapolis. 

Electric Wheel Co. 


Finest Repair 5bop in the 5tatc. 

Come in and let us show you what we have. Have a short 
talk with Art. or Billy. 



And Northeast cor. Washington and Pennsylvania Sts. 

^RINK 6c |~|onL. 


27 Virginia AyeriMe, 






All varieties of Soups in quart cans, prepared ready for use; 
only require heating to serve. Price, 25 cents per can. 






Try tlieee anil avoid annoyance in preparing your meals. 
Sold by all grocers. 

The nuffen-BfacP;fe(]Qe Co. 



Qoal\8, ^i}\\:s 




Athletic Supplies, 



Hau S WiffiU m'o Co , 

76 North Pennsylvania St. 

C. Q. FISHER & CO., 

64 North Pennsylvania Street, 




pir^e /T\illiQery. 


Anola Mandolin Club, 



599 Bellefontaine St. 

QniNA 5)T0RE. 


When you wear When Clothing, you feel as 
good as you look. 

The Latest Suits . 

The Newe st Hats. 

The Swellest Furnishings. 

The Lowest Prices. 

The When 




Works of Art, Engravings, Etchings, 
Paintings, Pictures for House and 
Sctiool Decoration. 



E. A. 5TR0NQ, 

Practical pLU/nBER. 




Electric Wheel Co. 


AQent6 for Humber Eagfe Speeder and other Bic!jcfe5 


Fine Line of Caps, Sweaters, and other Sundries. 


Harnessjurf Goods, Riding Saddles 


17 Monument Place. ROTH & SON. 


S2.75 TAN AND 


19 North Pennsylvania St. C. FRIEDGEN. 





When Building remodeled. Finest quarters. Latest and 
best systems. Shortest time. Elevator. Electric fans; largo, 
cool rooms. Open all year. Visitors invited. 

E. J. HEEB, Proprietor. 



f. m. herron. 

Telephone 1097. 

Horace F. Wood, 

Czirriziges fsni Livery. 

25 Circle Street. 


Soilings and Ipestment Go. 

Caff and examine oup pfan, 

We havj never had an "Expense Fund." 

Dividends credited on pass books semi-annuaffy. 
Borrower and investor sfiare afike, 
Witfidrawafs paid in fuff, 

Dues, premium and interest sfiown sepapatefu on 
pass boofis. 
New Series just opened. 

Office, 36 Circfe 6t. Open every day, 

GEO. L. RASCHIG, Sec'y. 

A. Q. JONES, President. 


Fishing 1 ackle, 




29 and .?/ West Washington Street. 



I. H. S. - - . . I 

What Shall My Essay Be ? 2 

Pardoner's Tale --...-.. ^ 

A Page of History 5 

Editorials 6-11 

A Tale That is Told 12 

The Great American Desert ------ i^ 

"Reveries of a Bachelor" 13 

Children in Fiction 14 

A Venetian Romance 14 

Ballad of Rejected Manuscript --.-.. 16 

Class Exercise in Criticism ------- ly 

Leonardo's Last Supper 18 

Why? - 18 

To the Pansy 19 

Favorite Books of Girls - - 20 

The Old and the New in the California Valley - - - 21 

Metrical Translation ---....- 22 

Tennyson's Two Locksley Hall 23 

Last Fourth of July 24 

Metrical Translation .-..-.. 25 

The Marble Faun - - 26 

The Decline of Oratory 26 

The Seasons ......_.. 27 

Reminiscence of Travel ------- 28 

Report Upon "Silas Marner" - 31 

The Story of Tennyson's Brook . - . - . ^3 

One Hour with My Grand-Sire 33 

The Modern Newspaper - 35 

The High School Senate 36 

A Quiet Garden Nook 36 

A Castle in Spain - - - - 37 

"A Day in Camp" 38 

Whittier as a Writer - - 38 

Class Song (Jan. '96) --..-.. 

High School Calendar - 38 

Coming Events - - - - 40 

January Class of '96) 41 

Indianapolis Woman --.-... ^j 

June Class of '96 - - 43 

A Historical Glimpse -------- 43 

Class Song (June, '96 - - - - - - - 

Alumni Department 47-51 

The Bicycle Girl - 52 

Athletics 53-56 

Advertisements 57-60 


The High School Annu/\l. 

"Let kiiowled^^e grow from more tn more. 

VoLL No. 3. 


June, 1896. 

11. lb. S. 

/\\\NE of the most familiar sj-mbols of rc- 
Vir ligion, and one which has been a hope 
and inspiration to followers of Christ for hun- 
dreds of years, is embodied in the letters 
I. H. S. The original Latin phrase is 
" lesus hominnm salvator," meaning " Jesns 
Savior of mankind." The similarity of the 
initials of our- Indianapolis High School to 
these sacred letters is very significant, and the 
thought of this fact adds an entirely different 
aspect to their meaning. 

Does our high school merit her title of 
I. H. S., interpreted in this, its true light? 
Truly, she does to a certain degree, if we con- 
sider all the ennobling influences emanating 
from knowledge acquired, and the benefit of 
daily association with persons of refinement, 
and cultured character. Yet, how infinite are 
her possibilities! 

The school has power to exert a wonderful 
influence upon humanity, linked as it is to the 
world with innumerable living chains which 
carry the current of thought away from its 

walls to be either of benefit or injury to man- 
kind. Which ? That depends entirely upon 
the influen:es exerted each day within the 

The atmosphere of school life should be 
pervaded with the spiritual as well as the in- 
tellectual elements. Unless with intellectual 
de\'elopment there is the corresponding prog- 
gress morally, knowledge does more harm 
than good. Does not our high school elevate 
her bo3's and girls to higher planes of thought 
and sentiment, arousing in them lofty wishes 
to be men and women whose lives .shall re!iect 
in noble thoughts and deeds their earl\- train- 
ing in the school-room ? She surely does, and 
it is for us stvidents to decide whether we will 
re.spond to these worthy impulses or not. The 
four years in our high school cover a 
period during which the character of the 
pupil is being most rapidly moulded, and it is 
during this time, that the solid foundation of 
noble manhood and womanhood can be laid. 

There is too often an invisible barrier be- 
tween teacher and pupil that shuts away the 
feeling of sympathy that ought to exist be- 


tween them. The teachers should not only 
feel a personal interest in every student, but 
they ought to make the pupil feel it. There 
should be a bond of friendship between them. 
To have a friend in one of broader experience 
than yourself, one whom you know you can 
tru,st, whose judgment you can rely on, is to 
have one of the sweetest gifts that life can 
bring. ' ' To be a friend is to have a .solemn 
and tender education of .soul from day to day. 
A friend gives confidence for life — makes us 
outdo ourselves." 

The foundation of true education is based 
on Christian principles. It is only the reflec- 
tion of Christianity throughout the school that 
has made it what it is. All its influences for 
good can be traced to Christianity for their 
source. Look into the world of to-day. Do 
you find civilization and intelligence anywhere 
but in localities where Christianit}' haspre- 
ceded them? No heathen land has become civi- 
lized without the aid of the Christian religion. 
Whether our school exerts an influence for 
good depends upon the degree of spirituality 
manifest not alone in the school-room, but in 
the students' every-day relations with the out- 
side world. 

What great possibilities there are for each 
one of us ! — what pos,sibilities for good ! Why 
not try to make this world a little better, be- 
cause each one of us has lived in it ? It must 
be a glorious thing to be an individual in this 
great world, not merely a small fraction of a 
huge mass — a useless part that is to-day, and 
to-morrow is not, whose absence or presence 
no one marks. 

If there is any feeling of patriotism in our 
hearts towards this, our own institution of 
learning, any love for "Alma Mater" there, 
then one of the strongest wishes of every one 
us should be to make our .school deserve her 
title of I. H. S. And when school days are, this emblem .should .still bean in.spiration 
to us in every path of duty — an ever-beaming 
light leading us on with rays of truth. 

Florence Gallup Atkins, '96. 


MAS there ever a graduate who never 
a.sked himself this question a hun- 
dred times or more ? Was there ever a family 
unfortunate enough to have a Senior among its 
members that was not tormented with this ques- 
tion, — What shall my e.s.say be? This has 
haunted me like an evil .spirit, and day and 
night I have set it ringing in the ears of my 
friends. It is not that there are no subjects 
worthy of treatment, but the trouble lies in 
the fact that I am unable to find one to which 
I feel m5'self particularly adapted. 

My attempt was a poem. Yes, I act- 
ually thought the Muse had bestowed this 
gift upon me, and so I wrote some verses 
which I had the audacity to call a "poem." 
The subject was, "Lines Suggested upon Read- 
ing Thanatop.sis. " In this, I called Brj^ant 
"Child of Nature" (such an appropriate name 
I thought), and then I explained how 

Sol, king of the morning, opened wide 

The gates of heaven; Aurora, blushing 

Daughter of the Dawn, spread wide her airy wings. 

And brought him messages from the blue sky; 

Even the purling brook told him of the 

River to which it daily danced its way; 

Told how it sparkled in the sun, and how 

At eventide, Diana, with her robe 

Of silvery light, came tripping with her maids. 

The stars, to gaze therein. And when they saw 

The splendor of their glowing train, they closed 

Their eyes against the dazzling sight, but soon 

Would take another look, then close their eyes 

Again, until the skies seem studded with 

A hundred thousand sparkling, trembling gems. 

No doubt I should have continued this 
"poem" until I had made use of almost all the 
mythological names I had ever heard; (for 
some rea.son I imagined that such would be 
poetic.) But alas! "the best laid plans of 
mice and. men gang oft agley." One day, I 
was horrified to hear my teacher say that, in 
the early period of literature, mytho- 
logical allusions were commonly used by the 
leading poets, but that it was not considered 
"good form" by the poets of to-day. For 


once in my life, I was grieved to think that I 
lived in the nineteenth century. There was 
my "poem" filled to over-flowing with names 
of gods and goddesses. It was hard to see my 
bright dream fade awa}-; but such is life, and 
I decided to write a storj^ I couldn't help 
imagining that I was gifted in some way (just 
how I didn't know) and I didn't desire to be 
one of those flowers, ^ 

" Born to blush unseen. 
And waste their sweetness on the desert air, ' ' 
SO I wrote my story. The name of mj- won- 
derful production was "Florence's Christmas, ' ' 
and although I was greatly pleased with my 
own effort, I must have seen its weaknesses, 
for I never gained courage enough to show 
that story to the teacher whose duty it was to 
examine our graduating essays. 

Thus it was that my storj^ as far as the 
world is concerned, "dropped into oblivion;" 
and with renewed courage and faint hope, I 
attempted a historical essay — "The Better Side 
of Nero." Of course, the first thing I did 
was to go to the lilirary for references. Upon 
ni}'' asking in what book I should be most like- 
ly to find something on the "Better Side of 
Nero," the lady addressed gave me a queer 
little smile and asked, "Better Side of Nero?" 
"Yes, if you please," I answered. She 
rubbed her hand over her forehead twice, re- 
peating softly to herself, "Better Side of Nero 
— Better Side of Nero." Then after some fif- 
teen minutes' diligent search through books 
of reference, I was handed a slip containing 
three numbers. These books I obtained; went 
home, and immediately went to work on my 
third attempt at writing my essay. 

"Nero came to the throne at the age of sev- 
enteen. At first he was modest and docile, 
making many good promises and refusing to 
accept bribes. He was never severe with his 
subjects except in the case of very notorious 

crimes, and once, when asked to affix his signa- 
ture to a writ of execution, he exclaimed, 
" How I wish I did not know how to write !" 
Nero was very talented and wrote some beauti- 
ful and powerfiil verses in Latin. He was 
ver}' fond of music, poetrj', dancing, and paint- 
ing. It is difficult to believe that a youth 
possessing such rare talents and of such a 
promising nature could become so corrupt. 
But it is true, however, that, as he grew older, 
he became cruel, heartless, and shameless. 
The cause of this change is laid at the door of 
his tutor. ' ' 

Right at this point, mj- composition was 
brought to an untimel}' end by the entrance 
of a friend who said, ' ' She didn't like the sub- 
ject very well, and it was a difficult one, too." 
( The latter reason was the cause of its sudden ■ 
death. ) 

Then I made plans for ' ' The Wheeling 
World," "Adventures of a Pin," " The Peo- 
ple we Meet," and " Trials of a School-girl," 
and, finding myself unable to treat any of 
these subjects in a creditable manner, I thought 
perhaps I did not know the definition of the 
word essay; so I looked for it in the dictionary, 
and found for its synonyms such words as trial^ 
attempt, endeavor, etc. " Surely," I said to 
myself, " I have done my duty; I have made 
several trials, countless attempts, and am still 
endeavoring, and yet I have completed nothing, 

Then an idea occurred to me — ( Is it strange 
that such fruitless attempts should bring seri- 
ous thoughts to my weary mind ? ) — Life is full 
of trials, attempts, and endeavors; therefore 
life is an essay; and I decided to let my past 
be the introduction, the future its discussion, 
and death its conclusion; and since the great 
curtain of Uncertainty hides from view the un- 
known future, I still must ask, " What Shall 
my Essay Be?" Edna Horwitz, '96. 


A NEW vrCRSiON OF CHAUCER'S. ' Do as thovi wouldst have done to thee ' should rule ye 

PARDONER'S TALE. every da}' ; 

But I bear nought against ye, sirs ; farewell, I go my 
''' Radix Malorum Est Cupidilas.^' -n - " 

Three roisterers sat down to drink before a tavern door; 

They heard the sad-voiced, clanking bell that goes a " Nay, nay, old carl, thou shall not so depart ! " they 

corpse before; roughly cried. 

"Haste thee, my boy," cried one, "and .see whom " Thou said'st but now .somewhat of Death; tell us, 

Fate hath.stricken .sore. where doth he hide ? " 

' ' Follow the crooked path to yonder oak ; there he 
"Sir," said the serving lad, "this man thy comrade , ., ,-, ,, 

was of old ; 

Last night, as he .sat drinking wine, came Death, a " There will he wait for ye to come, nor will he hide 

traitor bold, awaj' ; 

A .silent-footed, stealth)' thief, and laid him .stiff and And God, who ordereth Death and Life, preserve 3'e, 

cold. sirs, this day." 

iii^i." • 1 i 1 1 .1 1 • r 11 • Eager thev run the winding- road, nor for a moment 

This Death IS mighty; he hath slam full manv in ° - & • 

this land; '" ' ' ®*^^-^'- 

The mightcst monarch of the earth his power can not And there, beneath the rugged oak, knotted and 

withstand, gnarled and old, 

Be ready for him ere he lays on thee his heavy hand." They found no grisly, fearful thing, no warrior stern 
"Yea," cried the, "the lad is right; of late in '1"^^ bold, 

yonder town ■'^^^^ P^^*^ °'^ P^^^ o^ rounded coin, of gleaming, glitter- 
Full many people have by this same Death been '"& go^cl. 

' O then they thought no more of Death, nor of the 
Noljle and serf alike all fall before his powerful ., ,, 

^ oath they swore ; 

Joyous, thej' sat them down beside the precious golden 

Out spake one of the three: " M3' comrades, let us .store, 

make a vow And wondered long ; of so great wealth they ne'er 

That we will slay this villain Death, who ill hath done had dreamed before. 

' . At length spake one: "This treasure, friends, must 
He should be .slain who hath de.stroved so manv men, j- u t. 

-' - ' not be borne away 

Before suspicious eyes of men, nor in the light of day ; 

The}' swore the oath, they plighted troth, and straight- Here in this grove, till dead of night, we must for 

wa}' forth they went, safety staj'. 

And soon, upon their wa3', they met an old man, grav ,,-vt -1 <- j ii • ui i -u n <- t 

, , ^ J ' J ' s .' " Now here, to guard this noble store shall two of us 

and bent, , ., 

„ , 1 , . abide ; 

Feeble and poor; his .scant)' cloak in besfgar's rags i^t, tu- j 1 i-r u- -1 • <- ii ^ a c a a 

^ ' -' 5& & The third shall hie hini to the town, and food and 

was rent. . . , 

wme provide; 

" God save ye, sirs," he gently said; but scoffingl}' And which of us shall do this thing, let us by lot 

the)' cried, decide." 

"Tell us, thou churl, whv art thou here? thou tt .1 i ^ n ^i 1 t j 4- • 1,4- c 4.1 

' - . -J I Upon the youngest fell the lot, and straightwav forth 

shoukLst long since have died ; Vi t 

Why art thou then so gray and old and weak ? ' ' The ^poii his qt!est. His fellows schemed with murderous 
old man .sighed. . ^ \ 

^ intent, 

" No man is there who will exchange his youth for " A half is better than a third," — so was their purpose 
my gray head; bent. 

Death hath refused niv life, nor can the grave e'er be t,^ 1 -i -.i. 4- • 4- 4i 1 4. 1 a 

, , - ^ Meanwhile, the youngest roisterer thought as he sped 

my bed; , 

1 T 1 . , , along ; 

Weary and worn I wander -wide, and wish that I were ,,,, , -.,4. 11 4-t, 1^ • ta a vt 

"Ah ! if but all the gold were mine, I d spend my life 

in song." 

"Why do ye speak .so harshly, sirs? I did no evil And when he reached the town, he bought a box of 

say, poison strong. 


And eek, he bought three flasks of wine ; in Wo, the 
drug he poured, 

Then swiftly he returned to those who kept the shin- 
ing hoard ; 

So in each heart, the tempter Death, his fatal counsel 

Why need we tell the dreadful tale ? for dead all three 

soon la3^ 
Slain by the cunning traitor whom they once had 

vowed to slay. 
Cruel, alluring, gleaming Death, O come not in his 

way ! 

L,ist ye, O people, as these scenes of death before j-e 

Heed ye the moral ; truer one is not nor ever was, 
And this it is : " Radix tnaloricm est citpiditas." 



*€f'T was a sunny afternoon in late Septem- 
II ber. Rome in all her beavity lay bathed 
in golden splendor; and through her domain, 
like a silver ribbon, swept the lordlj^ Tiber. 
But a stillness brooded over her wide streets, 
broken by hoarse shouts that floated down 
from the surrounding hills. There the popu- 
lation of this fair city was gathered enjoying 
its favorite pastime, that of gladiator fighting. 
There the various classes of society were as- 
sembled enjoying the feast of blood. 

The emperor, in regal state, sat in the royal 
seat . Near him were seated the senators in 
their white robes and togas, while above them, 
tier upon tier, and row upon row, was seated 
the Populus Romanus. Over the entire 
ampitheater a broad awning, gorgeously woven 
in purple and gold, excluded the rays of the 
afternoon sun. Sweet strains of music floated 
in the air ; brilliant scenic descriptions adorned 
the walls of the arena. All was bustle and 
confusion and a babble of ten thousand voices. 

Suddenly the hubbub ceased, the crowd was 
stilled, for with a loud and war-like flourish 
of trumpets the gladiators came forth from the 

gladiators' gate into the arena. Silently yet 
swiftly, with regitlar step and military swing, 
this little band swept to the foot of the im- 
perial chair, presented arms, and forth rolled 
that sad yet thrilling chorus : ' ' Ave, Impera- 
tor ! Morititri, te sahitant." "Hail Emperor ! 
Those about to die salttte thee!" Then 
wheeling, they moved to one side of the arena, 
leaving two .sturdy gladiators in the center. 

Each was arrayed in full fighting armor and 
armed with the deadly Roman short sword. 
Immediateh- the coml^at began. Rapid as 
lightning fell the ringing blows, and as rapidly 
were they countered. Now one, and now the 
other was woitnded, but .still they fought ; and 
at each ghastly wound, the audience howled 
with excitement. They rose in their seats — 
they yelled! "Hoc habet : Hoc habet :" 
burst from ten thousand throats. 

But in the midst of this whirl of madfrenzj^ 
cla.shing steel, and thundering applause, an 
e\'ent happened, which for a moment .stilled 
this mad sea of passion. A white-robed monk 
leaped into the arena and advanced toward 
the contestants. His features were pale and 
gaunt, .showing the hours of fasting and 
prayer, but in his face glowed the light of a 
hoi}' High overhead, he bore an 
oak crucifix, and from his pale lips came the 
words : ' ' Desist ye ! Desist ye ! " 

For a single moment, pagan Rome gazed 
upon Christianity; and then, with a howl of 
passion and a yell of derision, down swept the 
wrath of the fvtrious and brutalized populace. 
Eike a .small .skiff on a boiling stormy sea, was 
the white-robed figure tossed and thrown, un- 
til the merciful knife of a gladiator ended its 

Thus died Domitan, the martyr ; a fanatic it 
may be, and reckless of life, but the forerun- 
ner of that civilization that should conquer a 
world never dreamed of in the highest flights 
of Roman ambition, and one that should be 
venerated when Rome .should be no more. 
Frkd Kendall, '96. 


The High School AnnuaL 

Published each June, in the interests of the Indi- 
anapolis Hig-h School, by the members 
of the Senior Classes. 


Jan.. '%^ June. '96 . 

Agnes Ketcham. Mabel Pearson Schmidt. 

Thomas D. McGee. Frank Tarkington Baker. 

Business Manager: Walter Gresham Butler. 

'To thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the nig-ht the day. 
Thou canst not then be false to any man." 

Allow us to present to you the High 
School Annual of '96. We hope that 
3^ou will be duly impressed by the artistic ar- 
rangement and the finished style of this liter- 
ary production. Among the pupils of our 
school, we have discovered those who are gifted 
in writing prose and poetry, an occasional art- 
ist, and even some who are inspired to flights 
of orator^^ From this mine of talent, we have 
selected what we think to be the best and have 
published their contributions in this paper 
which we hope you will receive charitably. 

Though many of the pupils whom we asked 
were not willing to answer our calls for help; 
others of a more benevolent disposition came 
to our assistance with cheerfulness. The ed- 
itors have endeavored to acquit themselves 
satisfactorily to the classes which elected them , 
and if there is an}^ slanderous criticism to be 
offered let it not be bj' those who have with- 
held their contributions. 

The Annual is read not by people in our 
own city alone, but it finds its way all over the 
country; and as we have tried to make this 
outshine the edition of last year, so may each 
succeeding year find The Annual more artist- 
ically conceived and of greater literary value, 
and may its circulation widely increase. 

A. K. 

It would be well for those who are quick to 
censure the system of instrudtion in the public 
schools and who know but little of that method, 
to survey carefully the course pursued in the 
High School, Ex nihilo^ nihil, ft is an adage 

as old as the I^atin language. If the course in 
the grades of the ward schools be not 
satisf adtory , then nothing satisfacflory can be 
built upon it. The High School itself is the 
polishing stone; the diamond has long before 
been roughlj^ cut. If, in the High School 
course, all that is taught is proper and practi- 
cal, and necessary to the future of the student, 
then, since the two are virtually one, censure 
for either means censure for the other. On the 
contrary, if the course in High School is right, 
so also must the course in the lower grades be. 

The system has been objected to by some, 
on the grounds, that the. health of the stu- 
dent has been impaired; b}' others that the 
course is too im practical; others again declare 
that much that is useless is forced upon the 
scholar. Of all these, however, the health 
of the student is of paramount importance. It 
is the laborer's riches, the rich man's bliss. 
Wthout health there is no real happiness. 
Health means life to the mind and it were indeed 
strange if in expanding, cultivating, stimulat- 
ing the mind, it were robbed of its true 

Of all those who have graduated from High 
School, not one can be found who will declare 
that the course demanded so much study and 
attention that the time for physical exercise 
was too greatly encroached upon. In fact, the 
athletic spirit has always been carefully fos- 
tered by the faculty, and every encouragement 
given it which they could devise. The stu- 
dents of High School cannot, as far as the 
course itself is concerned, neglect phj^sical 
training. It is only in unusual cases that a 
scholar is required bj' the work to devote more 
than five hours to studj^; and only then when, 
b}?^ his or her own election , an unusual number 
of subjects is carried. 

The course cannot be impractical. It is 
onh^ the impractical mind that makes it so. 
A wide range of subjects is covered, and among 
those required to be taken, not one could be 
omitted in fitting a young student for any 
branch of future study, or for any avocation 


whatever. The connection which exists be- 
tween every stud^^ and the fixture work; the 
wa}' in which they fit together and their joints 
are mortised can be seen no more clearly than 
here. The studies form the foundation; they 
must be mastered if any degree of success is 
to be obtained in the end. 

The elecftive course is .subjecfl to the pupil's 
own decision. If he determines to fit himself 
for an academical education, he burrows his 
way through the Latin and Greek and the 
English elecftives; but if he decides to attend 
a technical college after graduation, he takes 
an additional year in chemistry and mathe- 
matics. If he intends to leave the High 
School to enter a business life, to make the 
threshold of commencement an entrance waj;- to 
the prac5tical work of a merchant, he elects a 
course in book-keeping. If his mind roams in 
the galleries of art, and he sees unpainted 
pidtures, uncarved .statues, he chooses a course 
in drawing. And if, through the four years, 
he should devote a term to the pursuit of a 
.study for which he has no innnediate, his 
mind is only .strengthened thereby, and the 
knowledge thus acquired may, at some time, 
prove of inestimable value. 

This leads us to consider the usefulness of 
that which is taught. Of what use, is it 
argued, can a knowledge of chemistrj', physics 
and pure mathematics be to a girl ? In 
days, it has come to be recognized that woman 
has a loftier mission in life than by the side of 
a kitchen stove; and if these .studies yield no 
greater benefit than to broaden her mind, their 
work has been well done. A stitch can be the 
better taken for a knowledge of Shakespeare. 
Pleasure comes only in acquiring knowledge. 
"If I had truth within my hand," .said an 
eminent philo.sopher, "I should lose her that I 
might .seek her again." The woman is the 
center, the heart of the home; and brighter 
and happier, and cheerier is the blaze of the fire 
if the light of culture shine therein. 

The .stars, the flowers, the hills, and the 
birds are their own excuse for being. The 

.stars add but little light, yet they remind us of 
the eternal vigilance of the .sky. The flowers 
teach us hope and preach living docftrines of 
faith. The birds cheer us, ai;d the hills point 
out that for every weary up-hill climb. Nature 
has a gentler slope. Nothing is useless nor 
impracftical; such qualities are subjedlive — 
born in a mind which can not see the eternal of things! F. T. B. 

We, the classes of '96, forced to turn from 
our Alma Mater, do .so with a feeling of regret 
— a feeling .something akin to that which 
Wordsworth : 

Dear native region.s, I foretell 
From what I feel at this farewell. 
That wheresoe'er my course shall tend 
And whensoe'er my course shall end. 
My soul will cast the backward view 
The longing look, alone on 3-011. 

Thus, when the sun prepared for rest 
Hath gained the precincts of the, 
A lingering look he fondly throws 
On those fair hills where first he rose. 

We have prepared this paper with the hope 
that it ma}' serve as a reminder of the happy 
hours spent there, and with the proud hope, 


"That for deare Auld High School's sake 
Some little plan or booke nnght make." 

In after years, when this eventful one of '96 
has faded away from the memorj' of all, some 
gray-haired man, rummaging in a dark recess of 
his room, may find there, yellow with age and 
dim with, The Annual for '96. Startled 
by a thousand memories, a thousand faint 
vi.sions of long summer days, when, a whining 
.schoolboy, satchel in hand, with shining morn- 
ing face, he entered the halls of High School, 
he turns the page and reads there something 
that his hand wrote, sees therein himself as he 
then appeared and his crudelj' expressed ideas 
of the world; he titrns another page and reads 
there the names of long-forgotten friends, some 
of whom are dead and others far away in for- 
eign lands; .some that have risen to wealth and 
Fame ' s proud pedestal ; others who are toiling in 


obscurity and poverty, and a softness will creep 
into his heart, a tenderness of feeling unknown 
to him for years. He will become a kinder 
and better man, and The Annual will have 
done its work. 

The editors wish to express their thanks to 
all who have assisted them in the preparation 
of this work, and they leave their seats with the 
best wishes to all, and with the hope that The 
Annual may be perennial. T. McG. 

like your predecessors, that you may come to 
occupy the exalted and desirable position of a 
post-graduate, and may, like those before you, 
shed the light of your brilliant mind on those 
less successful in the paths of learning. 

A. K. 

We wish to convey to the pupils still in the 
dail)' grind of study a faint idea of the paradise 
in which an alumnus dwells, the ease and inde- 
pendence which he enjoys, the pleasure of 
looking down upon the under-graduates and 
discoursing with wise experience on his 3'oung 
school-daj's. How sweet the little additional 
sleep in the morning without fear of tardj-- 
bells or censure! All is peace and happiness 
svTpreme — to go to school when the spirit moves 
5'ou, and to stay at home when it doesn't — to eat 
and drink, and sleep and think, without any re- 
gard for other people's opinion. Is this not an 
end worth struggling for — is it not worth endur- 
ing the privations and hardships of gaining an 
education to exist in this haven of comfort and 
rest, and bask in the knowledge of one's own 
superior learning ? We are forcibly reminded 
of the poor worm toiling slowlj' along till he 
reaches the end of his allotted journey when, 
transformed into a brilliant butterfly, he spreads 
his gauzy wings and flutters out into the sun- 
shine of pleasure and freedom. Who is there 
now to question our movements ? We can look 
back upon the hair-breadth escapes and recount 
our heroic deeds with increasing pride as the 
years roll by ; we can torment the next 
generation with stories of real scholars that 
lived in our day, and of the finished and perfect 
reports of deportment we always received. 
We -will speak of our gigantic tasks, offer them 
sage advice, pay condescending visits to their 
school, and give them the enlightenment of 
our noble brains. Therefore we say to the 
young and frivolous — study and strive to be 

Another leaf of the High School Annual 
is about to be turned. The editors of '96, 
uneasy in the conviction, that whatever at 
first attempt, has been well done, at second 
attempt, should be improved (else there is 
degeneration ) , turn this page with trembling 
fingers to the inspection (they trust) of 
friendly and considerate eyes. If they feel 
the smallest bit of satisfaction with their 
labors, it is not due so much to what they 
have attained, as to the consciousness that 
they have honestly and earnestly endeavored 
to maintain that standard of merit set up 
by their predecessors in these uncomfortable 

While aware that their work maj^ fall short 
in some particulars of that of preceding num- 
bers, and that in avoiding the mud that en- 
gulfed their predecessors, they may have run 
plump into the mire, avoided by them, they 
desire to call the attention of their readers 
to one particular feature which they feel is 
one that enhances the dignity of the Annual, 
and which they hope may serve as a counter- 
action to other deficiencies that may be here 
undetected by them. 

It has been customary heretofore to devote 
one column of the paper to personal para- 
graphs; to that list of indescribable matter in 
which the writer takes the privilege of using 
the name of another for the butt of his joke 
or witticism. The editors have lately awakened 
to the belief that thus to promulgate the name 
of another to the observation of those, who, 
because of their intimacy with the circum- 
stances and persons concerned, would place 
the right interpretation on it, is hardly true 
courtesy. The harm done here, however, is 
small. But the Annual, although it may be 


ostensibly "a school paper," is by no means 
confined exclusively to the vicinity of Penn- 
sylvania and Michigan streets. Its circula- 
tion is far more widespread than some persons 
imagine. It reaches persons outside of the 
school, and persons who are likely to miscon- 
ceive the spirit of such remarks, and for whom, 
to say the least, such matter holds little 

The editors are not alone in this conviction. 
They believe they are expressing the opinion 
of many who have an intense and intelligent 
interest in the welfare of the paper. They 
are not by this step disregarding the will of 
the majority of their readers. For a select 
minority is an overwhelming majority, and 
they expect the approval of those who have 
thought of the matter or who will now carefully 
consider it. T. McG. 

There is, perhaps, nothing more interesting 
than to look back upon school days past and 
gone and see, as in a panorama, old faces and 
old scenes. Then we recall only the bright, 
happy pictures; for, in some mysterious way, 
the little sorrows and disappointments have 
grown dim. While plodding through school, 
the hours seem long at times and graduation 
far off in the distance. However, as com- 
mencement night nears, as the last half year 
comes, as the weeks fly by and only a few more 
days remain, we begin to experience a strange 
mixture of conflicting emotions — joy, of course, 
but regret as well. Heretofore many have 
doubted the assertion "that school days are the 
happiest in life," but now that doubt becomes 
somewhat weakened, and the idea dawns upon 
us that we have been having a happier time 
than we realized. 

New inspirations and a new realization of 
this happiness, and new gratitude for our op- 
portunities is gained when we hear those who 
graduated twenty or twenty-five years ago tell 
of the High School as it used to be. 

About the close of the civil war, the in.stitu- 
tion, having moved from the old First Ward, 

occupied what is now the School of Music, on 
the corner of the Circle and Market street. 
That building was then the Second Presby- 
terian Church, one of whose pastors had been 
Henry Ward Beecher. In the front yard was 
an old red-haw tree. The pupils used to watch 
with great pleasure for the haws to ripen; and, 
although there was no one to water the old 
landmark, it leafed and bloomed and fruited 
year after year. The boys' yard was separated 
from the girls' by a high fence, and near this 
fence was a pump — a very popular pump — 
where the thirsty boys and girls were fond of 
holding long conversations. 

Across the street was the old Circle, sur- 
rounded by an ordinary wooden fence and en- 
tered by means of stiles. There were a great 
many locust trees in this enclosure, and their 
blossoms loaded the air with fragrance in the 
springtime. The pupils never thought of taking 
the liberty of crossing the stile and entering the 

In the basement of the two-story school 
building, was the A Grammar grade taught by 
Miss Annie Tyler. She is tenderly remem- 
bered by her pupils as a very impressive 
teacher — original, cheerful and sociable. There 
was an old melodeon in her room, and some of 
the young people delighted in staying after 
school and dancing while she played quaint 
dance music. On the ground floor, were the 
offices of the Superintendent of Schools, a 
large as.sembly room, and two recitation 
rooms. On the second floor, were the first-year 
pupils. In the large school-room on this floor, 
the whole school would gather in the morn- 
ing for opening exercises. The day was be- 
gun with the reading of a chapter from the 
Bible by the principal, Mr. Bell, and with 
singing. Some of the favorite songs were 
"John, the Boatman," " When the Green 
Leaves Come Again," " The Alpine Hunter," 
and ' ' Rosalie. ' ' 

School began at half -past eight, and closed 
at three. There was half an hour for dinner. 
All the pupils remained through the entire 



session. The social feature was greatly in- 
creased by a recess of fifteen minutes in the 
morning, when the teachers and young folks 
were given an opportunity of becoming well 
acquainted. Everybody knew everybody 
and there was a general feeling of good- 
will. The school was so popular that the 
MethodLst and the Baptist Seminary died for 
want of support. 

There was an earnest corps of teachers, and 
the great majority of the boys and girls took 
a deep interest in their work. In those days, 
there were no such distracting influences as 
ball-games or Wednesday matinees. Being 
just at the close of the war, the spirit of the 
people was intense ; they were dead in earnest. 
Of course, then as now, there were those who 
did not like to study, yet many regarded an 
education as their first duty and their first 

Friday afternoon, was a kind of holida3^ 
At that time exercises were held, consisting of 
declamations and the reading of compositioiis. 
If any unfortunate failed to say his speech 
well on that afternoon, he had to try again 
before the whole school on the following Mon- 
day' morning. Some of the scholars pos,se.ssed 
a praiseworthy command of One 
boy, for instance, wrote a composition for his 
Fridaj^ exercise, in which he described ever}' 
teacher in the building by comparison. He 
used no names, and yet his pictures were so 
plain that every one understood who was 
meant. Quite naturally, his effort furnished 
great amusement for the audience, but sad to 
say it resulted disastrously to him — he was 
suspended, never to return. 

A very objectionable S5\steni in those da^'s 
was that of self-reporting. Every night the 
teacher would slowly call the name of each 
boy and girl in tones that sent a .shiver through 
timid offenders. If a pupil had turned around 
during the day, it was his duty to answer, 
"One report." If he had laughed, again 
came the answer, "One report." If he had 
whispered, the reply was, "Check." When 

we of the present day are inclined to grumble, 
let us remember our blessings and be duly 

Written examinations were held on the last 
Thursday and Friday of each month. In the 
middle of the year was an oral semi-annual 
examination to which the parents and friends 
were cordially invited. This was a great gala 
day. The students dressed in their best, and 
competed with one another in seeing who could 
bring the most visitors. Happy was the room 
that outrivaled the others in having the largest 
number of spectators. 

There were no pictures in the building then ; 
the onl}' luxury was a piece of Brussels carpet 
which decorated the platform. The library 
consisted of one set of Chambers' Encyclope- 
dias bound in green cloth. These books were 
purchased with the proceeds of a musical and 
dramatical entertainment called ' ' The Mid-' 
shipman. ' ' 

The equipment as to apparatus was very poor. 
There was an air pump, an electrical machine, 
a cell, and a Lej'den jar. The pupils, how- 
ever, made the best of what the}' had. 

Although the national game had not yet ap- 
peared, the High School was not without its 
physical training. In gymnastics, they had 
special instruction, but not .special suits for the 
occasion. The latter fact was made very evi- 
dent by the shower of buttons that occurred 
when the forward arm movement was prac- 
ticed. Later, the High School cadets were or- 
ganized, and were not only a prominent school 
but a prominent military feature. 

In the early .seventies, the High School was 
moved from the Circle to the present site on 
Pennsylvania .street, then occupied by the Bap- 
tist Seminary. It remained in this labyrinthian 
structure for two years. While the present 
building was being erected, classes were held 
in the baseiuents of Meridian Street and Ro- 
berts Park Churches. Gradually changes crept 
into the school system. An examination was 
;aken at the end of the year, in which trial 



75 per cent, had to be reached, or the whole 
year's work repeated. 

With each successive year, our school has 
increased in the advantages it offers. When 
we think of the limited opportunities of twen- 
ty-five years ago, when there was no library, 
no pictures, no laboratories, no athletic teams, 
no field day, no class days, no school publica- 
tions, we should heartily rejoice at the present 
improvement, and resolve to take what comes 
to us gladly and appreciatively, and work to 
do as well with our broadened opportunities as 
the bo3's and girls of twenty-five years ago did 
with their limited ones. M. P. S. 

On the afternoon of the 1 5th of February the 
June Class kindly gave a reception for the Jan- 
uary class. They went to considerable trouble 
to decorate the hall and were well repaid for 
their exertions. The room was filled with palms 
and tender little couches in convenient corners. 
The ices were a delicate green, and the refresh- 
ments were made more attractive by the pres- 
ence of the charming assistants who served 
them. The favors were hearts ornamented 

with ribbons of green and blue, painted by 
Miss lyouise Wright. Flowers were spread 
through the room in profusion, and the soft 
lights gave a finishing touch to a pretty scene. 
Music was furnished b\' a mandolin club, and 
after 5 o'clock, the guests endeavored to " trip 
the light fantastic," but, owing to the throng 
of on-lookers, the effort was disastrous, and 
many were obliged to seek rest and entertain- 
ment on the couches. A. K. 

During the current year, the enrollment in 
the school has been i ,012, a large number con- 
sidering the fact of the attractiveness to many 
of the technical courses offered at the Indus- 
trial Training School. 

This school has been placed upon the 
diploma list at Michigan University and upon 
the list of High Schools affiliated with Chi- 
cago University. This recognition of the 
good work done in our school was granted 
upon the favorable reports made by visiting 
professors sent bj- those institutions. 




^^^HE peculiar genius of America is especi- 
^^ ally adapted both for the production 
and the comprehension of the short story. 
It has come to be a favorite and characteristic 
feature of contemporary literature. The writ- 
ing of short stories is a recognized art. A 
concise style and a breadth of vision capable 
of seeing his story whole are necessary to the 
writer. His genius must enable him to grasp 
the salient points of his story as grown up 
within him, and to present them to the reader 
without dallying by the way. His work, in 
both form and matter, differs from that of the 
novelist. Unlike the novel, a short story may 
attain great success without having love for 
its theme. 

In the youth of the century, the inunortal 
' ' Legend of Sleepy Hollow ' ' and ' ' Rip Van 
Winkle ' ' were given us. Their genial humor 
and classic finish entitle them to prominence. 
Before Irving' s death, Edgar Allan Poe began 
to attract attention by his stories. Most of 
them are mysterious and uncanny in their 
theme. "The Gold Bug" is a specimen of 
fine prose. "The Pit and the Pendukun " 
and ' ' The Black Cat ' ' are unequalled in har- 
rowing and terrible effects. Unique in our 
literature is this writer ; Iwtli the man and 
his work bear the impress of a weird and 
melancholy genius. One's fear and admira- 
tion of him mingle. 

The pathetic figure of "Philip Nolan" is con- 
nected with an early epoch of our hi.story. 
" The Man Without a Countrj^ " is a marvel- 
ous tale. The punishment is one of poetic 
justice, yet of such subtle power as to be 
cruel. No one can read the story without a 
deeper and more abiding knowledge of what 
the words ' ' my country and my flag ' ' mean. 

The Civil War has given the century a 
sublime theme for story. The .soldiers of the 
North wore the breast-plate of righteou.sness; 
while of the South were armed as were 
the Knights of Chivalr3^ clinging to a lost and 

mistaken cause. The situation gave rise to 
many complex relations — the heroic, the ethi- 
cal, the picturesque, and the tragic when du- 
ties confii(5led and there was failure to perceive 
the higher one. Mrs. Harrison has written 
several fine war stories. "Crow's Nest," 
with the pathetic clo.sing scene, shows how in- 
evitably the dead on the field of battle would 
control the lives of the living. Thomas Nel- 
son Page's stories rank high. "Marse Chan" 
and others of the volume are illustrative of 
this writer's skill in delineating both the 
humor and the pathos of "Dixie Land." 
George W. Cable is another Southern writer. 
Some of his work concerns the war, but we 
more closely as.sociate him with the Creole life 
he has so admirably' represented. These Cre- 
oles are charming people, child-like and proud, 
idle and lovable. The dreamj- sway of life, 
the abundant beauty, liken a Creole plantation 
to a summer in the "Castle of Indolence." 

Ear awaj^ from this land of perfume and 
sunshine and idleness, the name of Mary. E. 
Wilkins brings us. New England's rocks, 
and cold, and industry confront one. Against 
this back-ground of, Miss Wilkins has 
drawn a series of characters and life-epi.sodes 
whose power cannot be over-e.stimated. Bret 
Harte carries us to another extreme of the 
land and the life — the wild Bohemia of moun- 
tains and mining camps in the feverish excit- 
ment of the gold days of '49. This life has 
left its impress upon our civilization; therefore 
its idealized portrayal in our fiction is import- 

A thorough master of his art, and mj- own fa- 
vorite is Richard Harding Davis. He may be 
depended upon not only for fine workmanship, 
but also for great originality in devising his 
plots. It seems to me that the highest types 
of Americans may be found in his stories — 
men with a fine sense of honor and women of 
innate refinement and keen intellects. Mr. 
Davis is equally successful with pathos and hu- 
mor. ' ' Her First Appearance ' ' is an exam- 
ple of the former, while " Traver's Hunting " 



is splendid humor. " The Exiles " and "The 
Princess Aline" are perhaps his best stories. 
' ' The Exiles " is an accurate study of a colony 
of social and moral outcasts shaming respecta- 
bility at Tangiers. ' ' The Princess Aline ' ' is 
a charming and unique love story. 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich and James Eane Allen 
are two widely admired writers. " Margery 
Daw ' ' by Mr. Aldrich is one of the ver}' clever- 
est of its kind. The denouement is artfully 
concealed, and it is with great surprise that one 
learns that sweet Margery is even more fragile 
than the Dresden-shepherdess she resembles. 
The genius of Frank Stockton is wayward. It is 
difficult to characterize his tales with their sur- 
face seriousness, but real vagaries and humor. 

This fertile field of our fiction is almost in- 
exhaustible. One may revel at will and find 
rare pleasure. As the short story is ever 
brief, it never fails in interest, and it enters the 
mind as a unity. Thus its merit as a work of 
art is at once apparent. The writer seldom 
makes any comment and leaves interpretation 
to the reader. The highest and most artistic 
type of short-storj' presupposes intelligent com- 
prehension on the part of the public; the wide 
appreciation of this class of literature justifies 
this expectation. Edith Keay, '96. 



The eye grows tired of gazing far away, 
'Cross sand which holds an undisputed sway; 
The snow-white alkali glistens in the sun. 
Here's dusty sage-brush, gray-garbed like a nun. 
And there, perhaps, a clump of cacti tall, 
IvOrd of the desert, prickly king of all. 

No oasis relieves the burnished space, 
No date-palms waving in their feathery grace; 
No dewy spot of restful, longed-for green, 
Naught but the sky and desert to be seen; 
The bleaching bones of cattle where they lie. 
Across cloud-barren blue the buzzards fly. 

Myi,a Jo. Closser. 

I met a Utile cottage girl and asked her to 
show me the way to The Old Homestead. She 
answered Half a League Onward yon will see a 
Man in Black — ask him and he will show you 
the House on the Moor. I did as I was told 
and soon saw the House of Seven Gables. I 
entered and perceived a Friend of My Youth. 
He introduced me to a Gentleman of France 
and the three of us took a seat by the fire. I 
listened to the conversatian. Dr. fckyll and 
Mr. Hyde were talking enthusiastically of the 
Coming Race. Donibey and Son were dis- 
cussing the Hard Times. The Vicar of Wake- 
field was talking over the Doings of Rajflcs 
Haw with the Hoosier Schoolmaster. The 
Count of Monte Criito was telling a Ken- 
tucky Colonel of ^4 Chance Acquaintance l:e 
made Two Tears Ago with a Lady of Lyons. 
He had asked her to marry him but She liad 
always replied with an If, Tes and Perhaps. 
Lool IV g Backward I perceived Two ./Admirals 
engaged in a discussion. One said that as sure 
as 7 en limes One is Ten it was a Foregone 
Ci nc'usion that it would end .so. 

I had become sleepy and was looking at a 
Slctch Book and some Pictures from Ilalx 
when sitpper was announced. After our re- 
past, we listened to some toasts. I had Great 
Expect tions, because of the note of the 
speakers. The following subjects were dis- 
cus.sed : The Man Who Laughs, The World's 
Desire, Familv Happiness, and War and 
Peace. We next adjourned to the drawing 
room, where we spent a very pleasant evening. 
Two Gentlemen of Verona had just finished a 
Christmas Carol, and I was listening to some 
Tales of a Traveler when I suddenly started 
with an exclamation of 'fulius Ccesar! where 
am I?" All the company vanished Through a 
Looking-glass. I jvtmped up from my chair ; 
I had been listening to I'oices of the Night. 
It was all a Midsummer Nighfs Dream. 

Sam. K. SeIvIG. 


The high school annual. 

we do without the 
is a question ask- 
let us change it a 

^^*y Yf|HAT should 
' ^LVV children?" 
ed the world over, but 
bit, and say, What should we do without chil- 
dren in fiction ? Those dear creations of the 
mind seem so real to us that we rejoice when 
they rejoice, and weep when they weep. 

We love and sympathize with Charles Dick- 
ens' "Little Nell," the gentle, unselfish girl 
whose life was ever pure and beautiful. At 
our first sight of the Timothy created by Kate 
Douglas Wiggin, we become interested in him; 
and inspired with some of his own enthusiasm, 
join at once in his " quest." Then there's the 
Ruggles family ! Who has not laughed over 
their ludicrous remarks and queer manners ? 
They are such funnj' little folk that we long 
to know them outside of the storj' book. We 
are surrounded by Mrs. Burnett's children and 
we love them every one. Noble "little Lord 
Fauntleroy," sweet "little Saint Elizabeth," 
beautiful ' ' Giovanni ' ' and lonely ' ' Sarah 
Crewe ' ' are old friends of ours. How dear to 
us is Eggleston's " Chicken Little," and how 
glad we are that Mrs. Ewing's "Leonard" 
turns out well! Francis Eaton's " A Queer 
Little Princess ' ' is the most loving of small 
maids; as are also Laura Richards' "Star 
Bright," and Mrs. Jameson's " Lady Jane. " 

So these childish characters cluster round us 
and we say to them, as Mrs. Ewing said of the 
real children, " Bairns are a blessing." 

Elizabeth S. Driggs, '99. 


MHAT "opal lights" of romance and 
poetrj' ! 'Tis midnight — all is silent 
save the gentle dripping of the silvery drops of 
water as they glide from the oar of the gondo- 
lier, gli.stening in the .soft, mellow raj's of the 
full moon whose radiant and mysterious beautj' 
is enhanced as it floats gently but merrilj- over 
and under and through the feathery cloudlets. 
On they move b}^ pallid, stately palaces ; the 
milken heaven with its trembling stars above, 
and the milken water with its trembling stars 
below ; past innumerable bridges, following 
cea.seless sudden turns and windings. During 
this pleasant row over the watery streets, in 
words teeming with admiration, devotion and 
love, has Veneranda plighted her troth to Or- 
.seolo, a man more than worthy of this fair Ve- 
netian maid. They are just returning from 
festivities held on the Grand Canal. 

Onseolo, tall and graceful, wrapped in a long, 
black cloak^ disembarks from his gondola. 
The silver insignia fla.shing upon his girdle of 
black velvet, shows that he is a person of high 
rank; as a maiden of marriageable age, Vener- 
anda is garbed entirelj' in black. With slow 
and dignified .step, Or.seolo traverses the quay 
with his loved one on his arm. At the portico 
of her paternal mansion, he bids her good- 
night, retraces his .steps to his gondola, and is 
at the lofty stairway leading to the Servite 

Onseolo, a handsome young nobleman, was 
left an orphan when a mere ^-outh, and was 
placed under the generous guardian.ship of Fra 
Paolo; on reaching manhood he fell heir to a 
vast fortune left by his indulgent father. But 
after spending so manj^ happy years with this 
good brother, he was too greatly attached to 
him to leave him in his declining age. 



In conducting various troublesome questions 
which had arisen between the two powers of 
Rome and Venice concerning ecclesiastical af- 
fairs, Venice had been materially assisted by 
the opinion and advice of one of her most re- 
markable sons, Fra Paolo Sarpi, — a monk and 
yet a patriot; a liberal thinker and yet a mem- 
ber of the Romish church; an ecclesiastic and 
yet a bold opponent of the extravagant clainig 
of the. ecclesiastical power. He was a man of 
original genius, and shrewd, clear intellect, 
who had thought out his religious belief for 
himself. Though a Servite monk, he was the 
life and soul of the struggle waged by his 
country with the ecclesiastical power. Having 
gained the victory, the Senate heaped honors 
upon him and rewarded him with well-earned 
praise and well-deserved confidence. He was 
a victim upon whom the baffled Pope could 
wreak his vengeance. Unable to bring him 
within his power by means of an ' ' invitation' ' 
to Rome, the Pope resolves upon stronger 
measures for the punishment of this powerful 

He so far attended to the counsel of his 
friends as to allow himself to be accompanied 
by Orseolo in his daily walk from his convent to 
the Ducal Palace and back again in the even- 

At that glorious time of the day be- 
tween sunset and evening, when the dusky 
shadows have lengthened to their uttermost , his 
companion being unexpectedly detained, Fra 
Paolo starts homeward alone. His solitary walk 
passes in soulful meditation, and uninterrupted, 
until, turning a sharp corner, he is met by a 
band of ruffians, who spring upon him, dealing a 
shower of poniard stabs upon his person. In the 
very midst of the struggle, Orseolo, almost 
breathless, comes running up, spies his virtuous 
Paolo, (the one who watched over his youthful 
slumbers, who led him through the paths of 
faith, hope, and charity, leading to a noble 
manhood ) as the victim of this cruel and out- 
rageous injustice. In a moment, he has flung 

himself amid the would-be assassins and con- 
centrating all his manly fortitude and strength 
in the one desire and resolution to free his be- 
loved Fra from the hands of these heartless 
creatures, he makes a last effort to save his 
life. Suddenly all worldly things fade before 
his eyes and he sees no more. 

Observing the two comrades fall, the villains 
speed away before anyone has been aroused 
and called to the spot by the disturbance. A 
young girl, who has watched the deed from 
a neighboring window, raises an alarm and 
immediately a great concourse of people, in- 
dignant at the atrocious crime, is assembled 
on the spot. 

The noble Paolo, partially unconscious, is 
borne by some friendly friars to his cell in the 
convent, where he is well cared for. 

Alas ! In Orseolo, who is severely wound- 
ed in the conflict, and his clothes rent by 
the mob, is not recognized the gallant, 
young nobleman, and, in company with several 
others accused of being in league with the as- 
sassins, he is conveyed on a litter to that most 
terrible prison of prisons, Sotto Piombi, and 
placed in one of those stifling, miserable cells, 
dark as Erebus, with only a slab to serve as a 
bed on which to recline his wounded frame. 

Day after daj' following this event, crowds 
surround the Servite Convent, anxious for tid- 
ings of the suffering monk ; but no sym- 
pathizing friends gather about Orseolo' s prison 
door either to inquire for him or to plan to aid 
in gaining his release. At last, arrives the daj' 
set for his trial. He is taken into the hall of 
the famous and infamous Council of Ten ; and 
before those malignant judges, with no one to 
testify to his innocence of the crime, he is 
convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment 
in the Sotto Piombi. Can this be true? 
Among all the friends of the noble Orseolo, is 
there no one who will identify him, who will 
free him from the living death ? Is he doomed 
to linger through the wretched years until 
madness shall deprive him of the power of 



memory and the bitterness of regret, or until 
death shall mercifully take him to its blessed 
repose ? 

For the first few days of his confinement, 
the ever-faithful Veneranda has appeared daily 
about the prison, gazing at the bare and frigid 
piles of stone which form the mighty barrier 
that separates her from her lover perhaps for- 
ever. She lingers here, for perchance she may 
overhear some word concerning the one for 
whom she is pining. Her watchful parent 
perceives the sudden change in her appear- 
ance and temper, and in order to assist her to 
bear her sorrow in a more womanlj' manner, 
sends her with a trusty and faithful servant 
to his villa, where he hopes she will soon re- 
cover her spirits. 

Obediently, but reluctantly, she goes, but 
her worry and anxiety increase instead of di- 
minishing. She remains one day, two, even 
three, but .she can bear it no longer. On the 
afternoon of the following day, garbed in the 
habiliments of di.sguise, she flies to the canal, 
leaps into her gondola, and to the a.stounded 
gondolier, cries " To the Sotto Piombi." On 
they glide. Buried in the cherished hope of 
freeing Orseolo, .she is mindful of none of the 
stately edifices and beautiful scenery, until 
the .stairwaj' of the Sala Dello Senato ( Senato 
'Hall) is gained. In a moment, she is out of 
the boat and has disappeared through the door- 

With no thought of the guards, who gaze 
upon her in astonishment as she them 
like a phantom, she hastens on, up the manj^ 
flights of stairs, and in the same unconscious 
manner as before, passes the threshold of the 
Hall ot the Council of Ten, as Or.seolo's 
sentence has been pronounced. As .she ap- 
proaches the .seats of the Council, guards are or- 
dered to thrust her out. Almost paralyzing the 
judges with a graceful wave of her arm, she 
casts off her black gown and thick veil, and 
they behold that radiant and attractively beau- 
tiful Venetian maiden, so widely known, even 

in the humblest parts of the "Queen of the 
Adriatic," who at once discloses the real 
name and character of the prisoner just con- 
victed. She beai's official papers which prove 
to the Council the veracity of her words. 

Through this ordeal, Orseolo has stood in a 
state of grateful stupefaction, awaiting the 
close of Veneranda's appeal to the judges. 
List ! In a clear but gentle voice, the lovers 
hear the longed-for words, "You are free." 
In an in.stant, Orseolo is released by the guards, 
and with one joyful bound he is by her side. 

Their faces radiant with the perfection of 
happiness, that happiness attained only by 
patience, self-denial and long suffering, to- 
gether they descend the broad staircase to the 
gondola and soon arrive at the Servite Con- 
vent, where, with tears of joy and voice 
tremulous with emotion, Fra Paolo welcomes 
his ward and defender, and .seals the 
vows of Orseolo and Veneranda with the bless- 
ing of a pure and God-fearing monk. 

Lillian J. Gibbs, '96. 


I've "submitted" my verse and my prose 

To the editors' "reading machines," 
Yet my name's unfamiliar to those 

Who subscribe for the best magazines. 
I began to write verse in my teens. 

By the light of sweet Sappho's face. 
Now what is it the editor means 

By "We're sorry we haven't the space?" 
Here are madrigals written to Rose — 

'Tis for Rose that my preference grows; 
Here are triolets, rondels, rondeaux. 

And the charms they portray to our foes. 
Here's a "Plea for our Gallant Marines," 

'Twas the admiral "stated the case," 
Pray, what is it the editor means 

By "We're sorry we haven't the space?" 
Here are tales quite as ghastly as Poe's, 

And weird legends; the "limit" still screens. 
But I fain to the world would disclose. 

So I clasp my portfolios. 
But just here a grim thought supervenes, 

Does my style lack acceptable grace ? 
And is that what the editor means 

By "We're sorry we haven't the space?" 

Adapted by EsTEivLE SeliG, '96. 




english : i i a grade. 
The attractions of "a dissertation on 

ROAST pig" to a person OF CULTURED TASTE. 

^^ ?J1 DLSSERTATION Upon Roast Pig " 
AJK is es.sentially aesthetic humor : it is 
mainly appreciated by people of cultured taste. 
Of course, certain pa.ssages, as in all humorous 
writings, are enjoyed also by the illiterate ; 
but its general character is too delicately dig- 
nified to be pleasing to other than a cultured, 
imaginative mind. 

The untrained mind can not be pleasurably 
affected except through the direct channel of 
plain language. It does not therefore get, in 
full, the humor of "A Dis,sertation Upon 
Roast Pig," because it does not realize the 
humor in the use of the mock-heroic. One 
acquainted with the meaning of the word 
' ' dissertation ' ' will feel a pleasant surprise 
from the association of two such confiicfling 
ideas as are awakened by ' ' dissertation ' ' and 
"roast pig." Such a reader will, from the be- 
ginning, expect the treatment to be in the same 
mock-heroic vein; he will notice that everj? 
phrase is intended to give the subject a digni- 
fied aspect, and that this is largely accom- 
plished by the use of the old form of the verb. 

Perhaps the main reason why cultured peo- 
ple so much enjoy this essay is that the gen- 
eral knowledge of facts which they possess 
enables them to appreciate the humor more 
entirely than they would without such knowl- 
edge. For instance, the reader who knows the 
characteristics of the Chinese, and of their 
great Confucius, will get the most enjoyment 
from Lamb's ridiculous reference to the dispo- 
sition of the Chinese to claim the invention of 
all things, and from his reference to Confucius 
as the author of "Mundane Mutations." 

If the imagination is keen and active, the 
humorous character of the details of the nar- 
rative will be heightened. The imaginative 
reader will get the keenest enjoyment from 
the picture of Bobo, intent on his discovery, 

regardless of his father's "retributory cudgel;" 
of Hoti's fall from grace in .sweet forgetful- 
ness of the immorality of the deed ,so long as 
the "burnt pig" was good to the ta.ste; and es- 
pecially from the .scene in court before and 
after the .sentence of "not guiltj'. ' ' The satire 
on the court and on the judge is alone suffi- 
cient to make the e.s.say of permanent value to 
cultured people, for it may serve as a reference, 
and a quotable pa,s.sage to illu.strate the power 
of the law as exalted in the minds of the 

Because cultured people are close ob.servers 
of human nature, the satirical passages are 
interesting on account of their portrayal of 
human failings. vSatire is the chief characteris- 
tic of the essay. The art of the author con.sists 
chiefly in the use of satire. For is not the 
folly of certain current customs much- more 
readily acknowledged if treated with kindly 
ridicule? If the writer, s is evidently 
to annihilate, the mind is sure to be placed in 
a resentful, aggres.sive attitude. Observing 
readers will notice the .satire on alms-giving, 
and will enjoy the apt use of the pronoun 
"she" in his reference to pine-apple. The 
very cream of .satire is reached in the pre- 
sentation of the important invention of the 
gridiron. The observant reader will enjoy this he sees it to be a hit on man's stupidity 
in following the foot.steps of his predecessors, 
until .some great mind comes along to convince 
him of a better way. Lamb thus obviated the 
previous evident necessity of burning down 
houses to obtain the luxury of pig. 

The .secret theme of the essay is .so delicately 
revealed in occasional glimpses that only the 
quick and close reader at all su,spects, until he 
reaches the sentences which mark the climax 
of the secret, that this extremely ridiculous 
compo.sition is a .satire on epicures. 

An ob.serving reader will notice the appro- 
priateness of the diction throughout and the 
author's art in cutting short his interesting de- 
tails before they become weari.some. 

The cultivated mind will perceive, too, that 


Lamb is an artist in narration. The author 
carries the reader along with his own thought. 
There will be perfect inundations of convinc- 
ing arguments, and then, as if -the writer fore- 
saw that his reader would agree with his state- 
ments, he shows the reader the folly of such a 
conclusion by a lash of ridicule. Thus he 
keeps the reader wavering in uncertainty 
whether the author is serious or is making 
game of his sympathetic reader. 

Jessie Lockhart, '97. 


^^^HLS masterjDiece of art probably stands 
^^ among the first of the "Ten Great 
Pictures of the World. ' ' It was the produc- 
tion of a universal genius, and had it never 
been rescued from the cloister damps, the 
to civilization would have been great. It por- 
trays one of the most dramatic moments in 
Christ's life with such vividness that the be- 
holder can almost read from the lips of each 
apostle the very words in which he tries to 
give vent to his feelings. In the midst of his 
apostles sits Christ, submissive and >'et sorrow- 
ful. In his face we read the thought, "Can it 
be that one of you will betray me?" while his 
outstretched hands seem to answer, "It must 
be." In groups of three, his beloved follow- 
ers have gathered aboixt him on either side. 
Their outstretched hands, or eager faces are 
drawn toward him. One of the most striking 
contrasts is seen in the two faces of John and 
Judas. In the downcast face of John and his 
folded hands, we notice the .signs of a yielding 
spirit, while in the dark, shaggy face of Judas, 
and in the right hand in which he clutches the 
purse, we read indication of a deep crime,' 
which seeks to conceal it.self by a false indica- 
tion of surprise shown in the slighth' uplifted 
left hand. As an intermediate character, 
Leonardo has made Peter complete the group. 
In his prided strength, he tries to encourage 
the tottering spirit of John, and the thought 
does not his mind once, that he who 

openly promises Christ all aid, will be the first, 
after Judas, to disgrace him. This group, 
which seems first in importance, sits on the 
right of Christ, while on his left sit Thomas, 
James, and Philip, another very interesting 
group. Their faces are turned to Christ. In 
Philip's face there is a look of agony, and with 
his hands pointing to himself, he seems to be 
asking, "Is it I, O Master?" Thomas, with 
uplifted finger, peers closely into Christ's face, 
apparently- assuring himself of his Master's 
words, while James seems to say, "Why should 
we betray you? Surely none have loved you 
more than we who are now gathered about 
you. ' ' The expression in the other two groups 
is not so strong. It is more a look of surprise 
and awe which steals over their faces. Yet 
the longer one looks into these faces the more 
they say, and it seems that with every new 
glance a new thought shows itself. All is ac- 
tion, and although it may be just the action of 
a moment, the study of each face suggests the 
thoughts that it would take pages to write. 
There is not one idea only expressed there, 
but on the contrary, we find in analyzing the 
main idea found, that the manj^ other ideas that 
were revolved in the mind to lead up to this 
main idea, are also expressed in the face. So 
we see that the study of a picture keeps the 
mind as busy as the study of a book. 

Emma Klanke, '97. 


I saw a lustrous, livid arc of fire, 
A meteor, shooting swiftly high and higher, 
With glorious light it pierced the cold, black sky, 
And traceless then it sank — 
I knew not wh3^ 

I saw a youth who, like that burning beam. 
With one grand leap obtained a glowing name; 
Great power he won, and wealth and honor high; 
And then his life went out — 
I wonder why. 

— Zara Messing, '98. 

To be weak is miserable, doing or suffering. 



Sweet flowerlet with winsome face, 
Now peeping from the richest vase, 
Or smiling from some obscure place, 
How fair thou art ! 

How oft thy laughing eye, coquette, 
Some sunbeam lover's glance has met, 
O still, thou naughtjf flowerlet 
How fair thou art ! 

But, sweet elf of wisdom, is there aught. 
That in thy face betokens thought ? 
Yet if thou'r't not with wisdom fraught 
How fair thou art ! 

The breezes sing thee lullabies. 
The sun, his sunbeams sends, and tries 
To teach thee how to realize — 
How fair thou art ! 

But, more than all, the human heart 
Holds thee, sweet one, from all apart. 
And longs to tell, if but in part. 
How fair thou art ! 

— Adsi<aide; I^p;cki,ider, '97. 




♦^Tn order to determine what girls between 
II fourteen and eighteen read, I asked ten 
girls to prepare for me a list of the books which 
they liked best. I have given here most of the 
books which seemed to be general favorites. 

Any and every book is more inviting if it 
have a thread of romance running through it, 
and for this reason, historical novels are read 
while histories are left unopened. The histor}' 
of Maria Theresa of Austria is much more in- 
teresting than a treatise on the affairs of Aus- 
tria could be made if the romance and stern 
beauty of Maria Theresa's life and the doings 
of her court were omitted. Mrs. Muehlbach 
has also made the court life of Frederick the 
Great doubly interesting by putting her readers 
into close relation with the scenes she depicts. 

Many of ni}^ ten girls, who would not think 
of reading a life of Cromwell or Hampden, 
will read with positive delight Miss Edna 
Lyall's books, which have as a back-ground 
the Parliamentarian struggle. "To Right the 
Wrong" and "In the Golden Days" are both 
delightful stories. 

Dickens and Scott head the lists of my ten 
girls, as their best beloved authors. Of the 
former's works, " The Tale of Two Cities," 
"Bleak House," "David Copperfield , ' " 'Ol- 
iver Twist," "Our Mutual Friend," and Nich- 
olas Nickleby" are the favorites. In Scott, 
"Ivanhoe," "Marmion," "Tali.sman," " Ken- 
ilworth," and "Anne of Geierstein," find most 

Though few girls seem to enjoy Thackeray, 
"The Newcomes," "Pendennis," "Henr}' Es- 
mond," and "The Virginians" are oftenest 
read. George Eliot does not claim many of 
my ten girls as admirers, but those of her 
works which are most read are "Mill on the 
Floss," "Adam Bede," and "Felix Holt." 
Her subjects and characters do not seem to ap- 
peal to young girls of this land and decade. 

Among my ten, Walter Besant has many 
devotees. His works appeal directly to each 

reader, each and all admiring "Armorel of 
Eyonesse," and half envjdng the girl with the 
strange ancestry and the beautiful treasures. 
"All Sorts and Conditions of Men" and "Chil- 
dren of Gibeon," are also great favorites. 

Some of my girls enjoy Eord Eytton's "My 
Novel" and "The Last Days of Pompeii" so 
much that these books head their lists. 

J. G. Holland has won many admirers among 
nty ten, through "Arthur Bonnicastle," 
"Nicholas Minturn" and "Seven Oaks." 
These books are distinctly American in setting 
and are very interesting. 

The love stories of S. R. Crockett are read 
and re-read many times. A breeze from the 
hills seems to blow through all the scenes in 
the "Eilac Sunbonnet," so fresh and sweet are 
they. In the "Play Actress, ' ' we see the lights 
and shadows of the life that is lived behind the 

Ian Maclaren's "Beside the Bonny Briar 
Bush' ' and ' 'For Auld Eang Syne, ' ' are smiled 
and cried over, their delicate humor and pathos 
making friends for them in every heart. 

To those who enjoy quiet scenes, Ik Marvel, 
(Donald G. Mitchell), brings much pleasure 
with his "Reveries of a Bachelor" and "Dream 

Mrs. Gaskell's "Cranford" is a source of 
genuine delight to many. Her humor is so 
delicate, yet all-pervading, that the inward 
smile of appreciation rarely reaches the sur- 
face. In reading it, you come to look upon 
all the characters as friends, and 3'ou are verily 
delighted when the reconciliation between 
Mrs. Jamieson and the pretty bride takes place. 

Almost every girl has a favorite author, and 
then a favorite book or books, not of that au- 
thor. The following are some of the separate 
books of which my ten girls are especially 
fond. "Ben Hur," "In His Name," John 
Halifax Gentleman , ' ' one of the most beauti- 
ful .stories ever written; "Ees Miserables, " 
"EornaDoone," "Uncle Tom's Cabin," "Heir 
of Radcliff " and "Ramona. " All of these 
are books whose stories are rarely forgotten. 



Each was written for a purpose, and the les- 
sons taught by the characters will remain after 
their names have been forgotten. They are 
all worthy of being read many times. 

Captain King's war novels have delighted 
girls all over the country, and though thej' 
seldom embody any great truths, they make 
delightful companions for spare hours. 

Mrs. Whitney's books, one and all, are 
loved in ever}^ home where girls are willing to 
do their part in making the home machinery 
run smoothly. 

Many other books were mentioned by mj^ 
ten girls, but the foregoing were those which 
appeared in the largest number of lists. 

Agnes McCulloch, '97. 


XYING between the San Bernardino 
Mountains on the north, and the 
Temescal range on the south, is a valley, 
twentj' miles long and five miles wide. Here, 
surrounded by groves of oranges, limes, 
olives, figs and walnuts, hemmed in by luxuri- 
ous, dark green cypress hedges, and wonder- 
ful borders of geraniums, honeysuckle and 
roses, are some of the most picturesque of 
modern homes. Here, in the center of the 
greatest orange growing region of the world, 
is Riverside, a city of recent growth, small 
it is true, but its ideal homes are not so 
limited, for nearly every residence has a large 
section of ground surrounding it, the extent 
varying from five to forty acres. The fact that 
an elegant house does not alone constitutes the 
most beautiful and delightful home, is fully 
proved in Riverside. Often the houses are 
small, and entirely obscured by the symmet- 
rical rows of orange trees, the ferny, drooping 
peppers, the tall and graceful, but majestic 
eucalyptus, the broad -spreading palms, and 
the climbing roses that grow from foundation 
to roof, which by their luxuriance transform 
the modest house into an embodiment of 

flowery fragrance and beauty. One might 
doubt the presence of the houses^ were it 
it not for the inviting drivewaj's leading 
away from the public road, passing between 
dark hedges, and under the protecting shade 
of the overhanging peppers to these secluded 
homes. Here are beautiful flower gardens. 
Nearer the river are the wonderful vegetable 
gardens of the Chinamen. 

View, for a moment, this same valley fift}' 
years ago. The bright, warm sunshine, the 
dewy freshness of vegetation, the clear, elec- 
tric blue of the atmosphere, the morning 
shadows on the mountains making each canon 
visible, the great pines standing out like 
guardian warriors on their summits, the sing- 
ing of mocking birds and larks, the cloudless, 
dark-blue tropical sky, — these are unaltered, 
for these man does not control. Differences, 
however, are strikingly apparent. On every 
side, stretch broad unfenced pastures, with 
flocks of sheep, and herds of cattle and fine 
horses grazing on them. Here, too, is the 
home of the Spanish owner of all this wealth. 
It is a low, rambling, adobe house, built 
around an open court, surrounded on all sides 
by broad stone-floored, vine-covered verandas. 
Green latticed openings there are for windows, 
and a massive door directl}' in front of the path 
leads to the road. This path is bordered on 
each side by well-cared for gardens, in which 
all kinds of flowers strive for supremac5^ Sur- 
rounding the house and garden are the fruit 
orchards, the vegetable gardens, and the 
barley fields. The inner court, with its hard 
earthen floor, presents a pleasing picture. 
Here the Spanish family are eating their out- 
door breakfast ; the table for the hired men 
and other servants is at the other side of the 
court ; the faithful shepherd dogs lie asleep, 
waiting for their day's work to begin ; a 
chicken occasionally strays inside, and is 
hastily scared away ; tied near one of the outer 
openings of the court, stands the fine blooded 
horse, pawing impatiently for its rider who 
sits with his family at their early meal ; all is 



cleanliness and plenty, industry and wealth, 
health and happiness. Such was the home of 
the Rubideau family half a century ago. 

Turn again to modern times. Centuries 
might have passed, so great a change has taken 
place in this family. Their possessions have 
been taken from them b}' the Americans, 
and these Spanish ranchers have become 
the children of poverty and idleness. Where 
all was wealth, industry and cleanliness, 
wretched poverty, idleness and squalor exist. 
Near Riverside, the thrifty cit}' which lies 
where the Rubideaux formerlj^ lived, is a 
Spanish village. A few rudely built shanties, 
constitute this village, yet here the grandchil- 
dren of the proud old Spanish familj^ now 
live. Humbled in the extreme, their pros- 
perity, no longer the directors of fine es- 
tates, nor owners of large fruit orchards, nor 
ranchers with vast grain fields and immense 
herds of cattle, we find them owning small 
portions of ground, their scrawny ponies liv- 
ing upon what can be picked up while grazing 
upon the foot-hills. Through ill-treatment, 
neglect, and idleness, the mental and moral 
natures of these people have been dwarfed, 
and crime is frequent among them. The Span- 
ish-Americans are fast losing their identity. 
They have degenerated from a sturdy race of 
wealthy ranchers into a class of society indolent 
and incapable. Here, amid the wonders of a 
semi-tropical climate, side by side with the 
rapidly advancing civilization of the Ameri- 
cans, is the equally rapid decline in civilization 
of the old inhabitants. 

The ranch of half a century ago, and the cattle raiser have disappeared, and 
the enterprising American city and the great 
orange industry have taken their place. Such 
is California, past and present. 

Ethel Lucretia Brown, '97. 


(yirgil — FIRST BOOK — Lincs 12 to 30.) 

In times of 5^ore, on Afric's shore 

By Tyrian pilgrims held, 
Across the sea from Ital}' 

Where tides of Tiber swelled — 

Was Carthage fair, with riches rare 

That Juno quick espied, 
And cherished more than Samo's shore. 

Or all the lands beside. 

She chooseth it, if Fates permit 

Her seat of royal power. 
Her arms are there, her chariot fair, 

Within the city's tower. 

But Juno fears, since she has heard, 

A race will 3'et be born 
Of Trojan blood, across the flood 

To rule with pride and scorn. 

That such might come, with victory won 

The cit}^ to o'erthrow, 
And Carthage fall, with Tyrians all, 

The Fates decreed it so. 

With mindful fear, did Juno hear. 

With hate and swift annoy. 
Recalled her rage, 'mid battle's wage 

Avenging Greeks at Troy. 

Nor even now, from heart or brow 

Could anger quite depart ; 
But Juno stood 'gainst Trojan blood, 

With hatred in her heart. 

Remembered there, in half despair. 

Decree of Paris given ; 
Her slighted grace — the hated race 

Ganymedes borne to heaven. 

The Trojans cast from first to last 

About the whole wide sea, 
By Fates were driven, from every haven 

To dire extremity. 

Jessie F. Bowman, '97. 

Write your name in kindness, love and 
mercy on the hearts of thousands you come 
in contact with year by year, and you will 
never be forgotten. Chalmers. 

Better to stem with heart and hand 

The roaring tide of life, than lie, 
Unmindful, on its flowerj' strand. 

Of God's occasions drifting by ! 
Better with naked nerve to bear 
The needles of this goading air. 
Than in the lap of sensual ease, forego 
The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know. 






^^^HE two poems, " Locksley Hall" and 
^' " Locksley Hall Sixty Years After," are 
really Tennyson's journals, one written in 
youth, the other in age, with sixty years of 
power, intellect, and knowledge developed in 
the latter. In the first poem, Tennyson dwells 
more upon himself and his passions, though 
the seed of great truths is sown whose .devel- 
opment needs onlj- time and experience. In 
the first, he has formed the foundation 
thoughts; while in the second he lives up to 
them, and besides this, becomes learned in the 
great topics of his age. He has said : " And 
the individual withers and the world is more 
and more." 

The truth of this is made more manifest to 
him later in life when he says: 
"Gone are all the fires of youth, the follies, furies, 

curses, and passionate tears. 
Gone like the fires and floods and earthquakes of the 
planet's dawning years." 

The poet looks back on his former pa.ssion.s — 
his great love for Amy, her unfaithftilness to 
him, and his bitter hatred against the one 
whom she married. The fire of all these pas- 
sions has long fallen to a.shes, and only their 
remembrance is left. He has forgiven the in- 
juries to himself, and has recalled his bitter 
statements, saying, "Youthful jealousy is a 
liar. ' ' 

Through both poems, there are strong un- 
dercurrents of evoltition and hope. Old age 
did not make Tennyson come to a stand.still; 
he was not satisfied to rest here, but his cry 

was : — 

" Forward far and far from here. 
Is all the hope of eighty years. ' ' 
Hope seems to me one of the necessary ele- 
ments of his nature; for when his heart is sore 
because of his spurned love and because he 
thinks there is nothing he can do, his spirit is 
aroused : — 
" O I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not 

Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy 

His spirit tells him that he must not retro- 
grade, but progress ever. The same idea 
of hope is in the following pa.ssage: — 
" Hope was ever on her mountain, watching till the 

day begun. 
Crowned with sunlight — over darkness — from the still 

unrisen sun." 

His Opinion of woman's ability enlarges too; 
at fir,st, he calls her the 

" Lesser man and all her passions matched with mine. 
Are as moonlight unto simlight and as water unto 

But later, althotigh he still maintains his 
idea of the tender, feminine woman, he places 
her on a higher pedestal ; — 

" She with all charm of woman, 
She with all the breadth of man." 

"Locksley Hall Sixty Years After," far 
from being the cries of ' ' unprogressive do- 
tage, ' ' contains great thought and beaut}'. Ten- 
nyson portrays the world as it is, attacking its 
faults with great severity — its poverty-, its 
crimes, its unworthy customs, its books of 
hideous realism, the power of the political ora- 
tor over the people, and the dwindling of Art 
and Grace. There he leaves this tirade, and 
brings in the thought of evolution picturing an 
ideal world. 

" Only that which made us, meant us to be mightier 
by and by." 
In this ideal world, there are no crimes and 
suffering, bttt all is peaceful, plentiful, and 

" Not in vain the distance beacons; 

Forward, forward let us range, 
Let the great world spin forever, 

Down the ringing grooves of change." 

— Bertha Langenberg, '97. 

Nature beats in perfect tune. 
And rounds with rhyme her every rune, 
Whether she work in land or sea. 
Or hide underground her alchem}'. 
Thou canst not wave thy staff in air. 
Or dip thy paddle in the lake, 
But it carves the bow of beauty there. 
And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake. 





♦tr SPENT the last Fourth of July differ- 
_ II entlj' from any other, but verj^ pleasantly. 
We were out amongst the great Rockies of the 
West. On that particular day we arose about 
five o'clock in the morning, for at six we were 
going to leave the little town in which we had 
been staying over night. Before our train ar- 
rived, we bought some oranges and sandwiches 
to eat until breakfast time. 

There were two engines on the train, for we 
were going over Marshall Pass, and it was 
hard work for the train to climb some of the 
steep inclines. As there were just four in our 
party, two of us got in the first engine and the 
other two in the second, thus commanding 
a better view of the scenery than we should 
have had in the cars. Riding in an engine 
was a new experience to me, but I enjoyed it — 
that is, I enjoyed everything except the red- 
hot cinders which fell upon us when we least 
expected them. As we looked up, we saw the 
track, which we were yet to traverse, winding 
in and out among the leafless pines, and on the 
top, there were still patches of snow left from 
the winter before. As we looked down, we 
saw the cattle quietly grazing in the valleys 
and near the tracks which we had already 
passed, and then we would sa3^ "Oh!" for 
there was a cinder on the back of our neck, 
recalling us to the realities of life. 

On reaching the top of the Pass, the train 
stopped and we got out and climbed a tower, 
which gave us a good view of the surrounding 
country. On going down the mountain, we 
did not need two engines, and so the first one, 
in which I was, left the other to bring the 
train; and we had a fine ride down the mount- 
ain side all alone. When we reached the foot, 
we got out and waited impatiently for the train 
to come, for we were to have breakfast there, 
and riding in the cool morning air had given 
us a good appetite. 

We passed the rest of the morning in the 
coach, in the sleeping-car, in the stateroom, 

and on the platform. In fact we were in every 
place that day except in the baggage-car ; (we 
had been there the afternoon before, sitting 
for nearly an hour on boxes of fruit while we 
admired the beautiful scenery, which could be 
seen much better there than in the common 

That afternoon, open cars were put on the 
end of the train, and we immediately went out 
and .secured the back seats. We were in the 
beautiful Black Canon, and it was there that 
we celebrated the Fourth. The night before, 
we had bought all sorts of fireworks, and now, 
as we fired the immense cannon crackers, the 
mountains sent the echoes back and forth, and 
the stream rushed wildly along his way, mak- 
ing a great commotion, for he was not used to 
such doings, and no doubt was badly fright- 
ened, and then when we shot off the little ones, 
he laughed merrily, and seemed to say, "Ha, 
that doesn't scare me; I make more noise than 
that myself !" We also had all sizes of torpe- 
does, which we threw the masses of 
solid rock that rose on each side of us ; and 
after we had sped away, we seemed to hear the 
mountains grumbling at being treated so. 

That evening, we stopped at a little village, 
nestling among the mountains, called Ouray. 
The people had come in from all the country 
around, and evervbody was in holiday attire. 
After supper, there was a great parade, the 
music was played by bands of Indians, and the 
streets were crowded with people who wished 
both to see and to hear. The band played on, 
and I must have fallen asleep, for when I 
awoke, it was thfe fifth of July. 

Julia Hobbs, '99. 

Build thou more stately mansions, O my soul. 

As the swift seasons roll ! 

I^eave thy low-vaulted past ! 
Let each new temple, nobler than the last. 
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast. 

Till thou at length art free, 
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea. 

O. W. Hoi^MES. 





Now Juno, the passion-blind goddess, comes into the 

country of tempests, 
A place filled with furious storms; ^4iolia, named from 

its rulers. 
Here rules he the impatient winds; with a sceptre of 

iron he sways them. 
Deep in his cavernous realms he restrains them in 

chains and in dungeons ; 
Indignant they murmur and strain, and struggle in 

in vain at their leashes. 
All calml}'. King ^5jolus sits enthroned and holding 

his sceptre. 
He calms them and smoothes thein when restless, he 

tempers their fury, when angry. 
For well knows he, if this is not done, that sea, earth, 

and heavens will vanish, 
Borne away by these furious monsters, as swiftly they 

fly through the ether. 
But Jupiter, fearful of this, shut them up in these 

great gloomy caverns 
And placed on the top, lofty mountains, and gave 

them a king, understanding 
In what moods to give them more freedom, in what 

moods to curb and restrain them. 
* * * * * * * * * 

Implored b}' the beautiful goddess, he swiftly reverses 
his sceptre ; 

He wounds in its side the caved mountain and forth 
rush the storms in their freedom. 

They sweep over the earth in a whirlwind, descend 
on the sea, and in frolic it up from its deepest of hollows, roll .shore- 
ward the waves vast and might)'. 

In the darkness which follows, are heard .shouts of 
men and the whistling of rigging. 

Black clouds snatch the heavens and sun from l)efore 
the eyes of the Teucri. 

The blackness of night is disturbed by sharp light- 
nings and rumbling of thunder. 

And a horrible death, all things threaten the men, 
quaking now in their terror. 

— Emilie McCuli^ough, '96. 

^neas from his sylvan throne 
Calls to the runners to come on, 
And to arouse their courage bold 
Brings forth a glittering prize, 
A war-horse checked with rein of gold ; 
And thus before their eyes 
He turns the polished helmet o'er, 

Won from the Greeks on Troy's far .shore; 

A golden quiver brings to view. 

Inlaid with gems and holding, too. 

The Thracian arrows, rare and true; 

They take their places at the word, 

And when the signal trump is heard 

Sudden they leave the starting place. 

Each bends his sinews for the race. 

Upon the goal they fix their eyes. 

Then speed away, and Nisus flies 

Swifter than lightning or the wind; 

The next, yet distant Salius tries 

To leave the others yet behind; 

The third was young Euryalus, 

A .space, then follows Helymus; 

Then pressing onward, heel on heel. 

Comes Diores with nerves of steel. 

The goal is neared, when mocking Fate, 

Just where the blood of bullocks slain 

Had slipperv made the grassy plain. 

Hurls down the victor, as elate 

He marks his triumph with his eyes. 

Slipping, he falls and prostrate lies; 

But yet his mind stays with the race. 

Though lost to him, he gives first place 

Unto his friend; as Salius speeds 

With vigor by and little heeds 

The fallen form, quick in his way. 

It throws itself; he cannot stay 

The swift recoil, but falls amain 

Upon the slimy, blood-.stained plain. 

While Euryalus onward flies 

'Mid loud applause to win the prize. 

— Emm.\ Clinton, '96. 

Diligence is not a whit more toilsome than 
.sport or idleness. Hawthorne. 

There is no situation in life but has its ad- 
vantages and pleasures. Irving. 


"Be thou of those " who live again 

In minds made better by their presence ; 

In pulses stirred to generosity, 

In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn 

For miserable aims that end with self 

In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars. 

" Heed how thou livest. Do no act by day 
Which from the night shall drive th}' peace away, 
In months of sun ,so live that months of rain 
Shall still be happy. Evermore restrain 
Evil and cherish good." 




" When half -gods go, 
The gods arrive." 
Says Emerson : The Marble Faun is but those two 
lines exemplified and elaborated. 

♦fflTN the opening chapters there is presented 
II a youth, so care free, and happy, so full of 
animal life and spirits, that he seems more akin 
to the inhabitants of grove and forest than to 
those of village and city. He is young and 
strong, with all the beauty of Italian youth, 
and between him and the famed Faun of Prax- 
iteles there is a most wonderfttl resemblance. 
Form and feature of marble and man exactly 
correspond, nor does the resemblance cease 
there. In nature, as in feature, the faun of 
old might have been the prototype of Dona- 
tello. It was as if that charming link between 
man and nature had sprung into renewed life, 
and the half-god of field and woods lived again. 
Donatello's life, up to the time of the stor^^, 
had been spent in a remote corner of Italy, 
among a rustic people, where he breathed in- 
nocence with the pure air, and drank joy with 
every draught of the sparkling wine. Led by 
some strange fate, he comes to the eternal citj^ 
where his rustic grace, his buoyant spirits seem 
strangely out of place, and where he first knows 

Never before, in his simple life, has he 
known the meaning of that word, and from his 
first knowledge he recoils, blinded, bewildered, 
stunned. As the full realization of his deed 
dawns upon him, his despair deepens. The 
sensitive spirit shrinks in abhorrence from the 
guilty self. Heaven and earth seem to reel 
around him and he knows not what is solid 
ground. But in the darkness of those days, 
the soul, which had lain dormant during these 
years of ignorant innocence, awakes and cries 
out. And it is with the awful question of the 
development of the soul that the story deals. 
The struggles, agonies, and despair, the crush- 
ing consciousness of the sin, the self-loathing 
and scorn, all are factors in the mighty prob- 

lem, but at last the soul stands triumphant in 
God's own sunlight and Donatello feels him- 
self a man. 

Ah! the fruit of the tree of knowledge is 
bitter and Donatello had tasted the bitterness 
thereof. The gaiety of the young Faun was 
gone forever, and the gravity of a man, who 
had fought for life, had taken its place. The 
half -god of wood and field had disappeared, 
but the god strong in divine strength, wise, 
self-reliant, had come. 

" And the Lord God said, ' Behold, the man 
is become as one of us, to know good and 
evil.' " 

Mabel Martin Hopkins, '97. 


•^^HE present stage of the world's historj^ 
^^ is destitute of men possessing the highest 
form of cultured discourse, that of appealing 
to the aesthetic sensibilities of man and of 
arousing his dormant and listless emotions to a 
state of mental activity which results in an 
indorsement of the advocate ' s views. Oratory , 
which was regarded b}' the ancients as one of 
the greatest of gifts, is not considered of suf- 
ficient importance b}' us to be taught in our 
educational institutions. From one point of 
view, it is true that the present newspaper has 
replaced the orator, for the press speaks to a 
multititde indefinitely greater than the orator's 
voice could reach. Looking at it from a 
broader standpoint, however, who would not 
prefer to see the orator in a blaze of the glory 
of a God-inspired adherence to a principle to 
be instilled in the minds of the people ? The 
truths enunciated by the orator will be dis- 
cussed and acted upon, though the orator, him- 
self, be as violently treated as was Garrison in 
the ante-bellum days. In these times of 
"thoughts that shake mankind," we need 
more youth to adopt the heroic, self -instructive 
measures of Demosthenes, and such an adop- 
tion will result in developing more Websters, 



Burkes and Sumners to shape and mould the 
thoughts of nations. 

Education is the only remedy for this great 
defect in modern civilization. In every public 
institution, there should be one department that 
is entirely devoted to the cultivation of the art 
of oratory. Neither of the two grand media 
of the dissemination of knowledge, the tongue 
and the pen, should be neglected; but as much 
attention should be bestowed upon oratory, as 
upon composition. 

Lawrence B. Davis, '97. 


O Nature, thou with thy great love 

Dost over all, below, above, 

"With tender care and power divine 

Cast that paternal grace of thine. 

In all thy works, it seems to me. 

Thou dost excel in harmony 

Of color, which delights the eye. 

Of music, made by birds on high. 

Thou hast a place for everything, 

The flow'rs that bloom, the birds that sing, 

Each in its turn to reign supreme 

And over all cast its bright gleam. 

Thou makest well thy course to run 

By night the moon, by day the sun. 

Of all thy works, I fain would say. 

The happiest be thy grand outlay, 

That varied carpet of the 3'ear 

Which ever doth more bright appear. 

To Spring, that artful child so fair. 

Thou givest more than seems her share. 

All life awakens with her breath. 

All that before was cold in death. 

The field a bright green hue assumes, 

The trees and plants send forth their blooms. 

The little birds begin to thrill. 

The thrush, the wren, the whip-poor-will. 

All tend to greet one with delight 

And make more beautiful the sight. 

Then Summer comes with an oiitlay 
Of fields of corn, of wheat, of hay. 
And flowers of a brighter hue — 
The rose so red, the pansy blue. 
The fields of grain assume the gold 
That with delight all men behold, 
For 'tis the time of harvesting 
And fields with merry voices ring; 

For now's the time which doth afford 
The things laid by for winter's board. 

Fall with her nianj' colored leaves 
Blown here and there amongst the trees 
Comes next. She spreads upon earth's breast 
The vines and trees with fruit well blest. 
The luscious grapes, red, purple, green, 
Through vari-tinted leaves are seen. 
The apples on the trees so high 
Distinct outlined against the sky 
Bespeak the winter's night so drear, 
Where b}' the hearth they bring good cheer. 

And last of all, she doth appear. 
That white-robed furj' of the year. 
She blows on all her frost}' breath 
That well foretells the flowers' death. 
Her soft white mantle close she draws 
About her fierce and biting jaws. 
Then love the folks to sta}' at home 
And not from fireplace far to roam. 
And when the bells peal out that day 
When the new Christ in manger lay. 
Then gather they about the hearth 
And celebrate that dear One's birth; - 
And six daj's later in the night, 
The old year dies, gives up its right. 

So, Nature, b}- th)- power of reason 
Thou makest all to come in season. 
And when thou think 'st the time has come 
For them to go to their last home, 
Thou gently cut'st the tender thread 
And send'st them to their lowly bed. 

— Fthei. R. Claybourne, '96. 

In life's small things be resolute and great. 

To keep thy muscle trained : know'st thou when Fate 

Thy mea.sure takes, or when she'll say to thee, 

" I find thee worthy ; do this deed for me." 


Greatly begin ! though thou have time, 
But for a line, be that sublime, — 
Not failure, but low aim, is crime. 


No man is born into the world whose work 
Is not born with him ; there is always work , 
And tools to work withal, for those who will. 


Know how sublime a thing it is 
To suffer and be strong. 





♦fp%ALF the pleasure and profit of travel is 
11^ due to intercourse with one's fellow- 
travellers. Mutual good-will, or a little timel}' 
aid in an hour of need often leads to life-time 
friendships. With few exceptions, notabl}- the 
well-meaning but uncommunicative Briton, 
foreigners are found to meet one half-way, if 
approached in the true spirit of courtesy. 

Once, a long day's journey by rail waS 
pleasantly broken by the companionship of a 
hearty old German who occupied the seat in 
front of us. He knew all about the country 
through which we were passing, and as he 
spoke English, could tell us much of interest 
not to be found in the guide-book. 

Seeing that we were unfortunate in the 
amount of lunch laid in beforehand, he gener- 
ously invited us to share the contents of a huge 
square lunch basket, well packed by some good 
Haus-frau. The basket was a curious affair, 
with several trays, boxes, cans, straps, and in- 
numerable little conveniences for carrying food 
for a long journey. 

Mein Herr was in a happy mood and kept 
us laughing over his little pleasantries. Here 
is one of his stories told after he had passed us 
some fruit : "Ze French ladies like two kinds 
of fruit only — apples and pears. You do not 
believe ? Ach ! I ask madame what is her 
favorite fruit. If she have ugly teeth she say 
'/« pomnie ; ' but if she have fine beautiful 
teeth, she tell me, ' ah, monsieur, j'aime la 
poire / ' " 

>I< >;; >|< >ji >iC >;< >i^ 

Frederick the Great, like some other gen- 
iuses, was a man of eccentricities. He loved 
to surprise and contradict people. He had a 
way of inviting persons to dinner in one of his 
private apartments, and then causing the table 
and all its load suddenly to sink through a trap- 
door in the floor, leaving the guests to continue 
in surprise and hunger until he chose to ele- 
vate the table to its proper position. 

This device was reall}' intended to permit his 

dining with political friends without risk of 
being overheard by his servants, who changed 
the viands in the room below, whenever the 
table descended. The table is still shown in 
the palace at Potsdam, a pretty town on the 
Havel river, sixteen miles from Berlin. 

Once the seat of the Great Elector of Brand- 
enburg, it owes its more modern splendors to 
Frederick the Great. Friedrichskron, an enor- 
mous and imposing palace of two hundred and 
twenty rooms, was built by him in 1769, at 
great expense, merely to prove to the world 
that he still had plenty of money at the end of 
the Seven Years War. 

■;)(: :)fi -^ -^ -^ -Jf. -^ 

At Potsdam, are a number of other royal res- 
idences, parks and small chateaux. One of 
the most interesting of these is a little play- 
house of a palace, one story high, but with a 
long and elaborate frontage. This was Fred- 
erick's favorite residence. His rooms are al- 
most unaltered. At the east end of the palace, 
on the terrace, is a statue of Flora, near which 
are buried his favorite grey-hounds and 
chargers. He once expressed a wish to be 
buried beside them at the foot of the statue, 
saying, " Qnand je serai la, je serai sans souci."' 
( ' ' When I am there, I shall be without care. ' ' ) 
Thus the little palace received its name, Sans 
souci — the Carefree. 

Its most curious room is that one prepared 
by Frederick for the reception of Voltaire. 
Mutual admiration had existed for some time 
when the Prussian monarch invited the French 
dramatist to visit him at Sanssouci. Voltaire 

The men of that time were as noted for the 
use of powder, paint, wigs, and such things, 
as the women. Voltaire was no exception. In 
spite of his admiration for the Frenchman's 
writings, Frederick considered him a vain chat- 
ter-box ; in fact, thought he looked like a 
monkey. He resolved to have a laugh at Vol- 
taire's expense. The room prepared for him 



was to be furnished in keeping with his nature, 
or Frederick's conception of it. 

It is still shown to visitors. The woodwork 
and furniture are elaborately carved in gro- 
tesque designs of hideous, grinning monkeys. 

On the hangings are embroidered, in gaudy 
colors, more monkeys and gorgeous parrots 
with their beaks wide open, evidently ready to 
chatter. The toilet-table itself rivals that of 
Pope's Belinda of the stolen lock in being a 
curiosity of its kind; and in all its arrangements 
satire on Voltaire's personal habits is evident. 
Grooves and larger spaces are cut in the sur- 
face of the table, and in these lie paint-brushes, 
combs, mirror, cosmetic boxes, and receptacles 
for powder and paint. There is a ewer for 
water, ridiculously .small, and a bowl also sunk 
into the table, but correspondingh' diminutive ; 
hardly large enough for a comfortable rinsing 
of one's two hands. 

Whether Voltaire was as much amused as 
his host over these little reflections on his hab- 
its, history does not tell us. But one maj' infer 
that he took all with a good grace, for history 
does record a visit that meant much intellect- 
ual entertainment to two great minds. 

Near Sanssouci still stands a picturesque 
wind-mill which Frederick wished to have re- 
moved when he took possession of the palace. 
He offered to buy the land on which it stands. 
But the sturdy peasant owner, who valued his 
mill, stoutly scorned first the royal offers, and 
then the royal threats. For Frederick finally 
went to court, and the decision was, that not 
even the king could compel a subject to sell 
property against his will. 

>K >i< ;jc ^it ^< >i; >Y- 

Frederick could not command his peasants 
entirely, but he could his soldiers. 

The men of the Potsdam garrison disliked 
to attend the garrison church on account of 
the lengthy service. The king investigated 
and made the rule that every soldier should 
attend church at least once a month; but the 
officiating minister had strict orders to limit his 

.sermon to izvo hours. To make sure, an hour- 
glass was kept in full sight vipon the reading 
desk. When the sands had measured out the 
appointed time, the worthy clergyman had to 
stop preaching instantly, no matter how much 
he wished to finish a telling sentence, to de- 
li\'er an inspiring thought, or his most thrill- 
ing climax. The rule was strictly enforced, 
and it is said that the men found this arrange- 
ment much more satisfactory. 

;|; :Jj ^ ji; >!;>!; >[; 

A number of battle-flags, taken chiefly from 
the French, are suspended on either side of the 
pulpit. In a vault beneath this pulpit is the 
plain coffin of the great Frederick, beside that 
of his father, Frederick William I. For he 
does not rest in the shadow of his favorite 
San.s.souci beside the graves of his faithful 
dogs. Yet it seems fitting that the stern old 
warrior should sleep at last in a soldier's 
church, while the flags that brave Pru.ssians 
fought for wave o\'er his tomb. 

Christ's Ho,spital, or the famous Blue Coat 
School, in London, was founded by Edward 
the Sixth, for orphan boys and sons of parents 
with an income of less than ^300 a year. The 
original and inconvenient costume is still worn 
by the boys. It consists of a long blue coat, 
knee breeches, yellow stockings, and low shoes 
with large buckles. No head covering is ever 
worn; the boj's go bareheaded summer and 

Many of the ancient privileges granted to 
the school are still retained. One is that of 
presenting them to the Lord Mayor at the 
Mansion House on Easter Tuesday, when each 
receives the gift of a shilling fresh from the 
mint. Tittle companies of them make quaint 
processions when out for a holidaj^ with their 
masters. Among the famous men who were 
once " Blue Coat Boys," were Leigh Hunt, S. 
T. Coleridge, and Charles Lamb. 

-J-f '^,:. 'J^ :^ :^ ^ ^ 

"Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore? 
Here in streaming London's central roar. 



Let the sound of tliosa he wrought for, 
And the feet of those he fotight for, 
Echo round his bones for evermore." 

There could be no more poetic description of 
Wellington's tomb than that of Tennyson in 
his famous Ode. 

Both Wellington and Nelson rest in the vast 
crypt of great St. Paul's, in London. The 
black marble sarcophagus of Nelson, contain- 
ing an inner coffin made of part of the main- 
mast of the French ship L' Orient, rests in the 
crypt exactly under the center of the great 
dome. Not far from there, in a chamber 
lighted by four candelabra of polished granite, 
is the sarcophagus of Wellington, a huge block 
of porphyry resting on a granite base. 

In another chamber, behind the tontb of 
Nelson, is the great hearse used at Welling- 
ton's finieral. It is an enormous affair, very 
long and high, covered with heavy black 
draperies and other trappings of mourning. 
The body of the hearse was cast from guns 
taken in the Iron Duke's victories. 

In one of the low-ceiled vaults of this crypt, 
the clapping of hands produces a sound like 
the report of musketry. 

All around the church runs an irregular 
street known as St. Paul's Churchyard. It 
connects two great thoroughfares — Fleet street 
and Ludgate Hill — with the famous Cheapside. 
St. Martin's-le-Grand is another street running 
oil near this irregular oval, and St. Martin's is 
l>ttt the beginning of Aldersgate street, where 
Milton lived for a time. 

Back and forth through St. Patil's Chiu'ch- 
yard daily surges the tide of ' ' streaming Lon- 
don." The roar of humanity reaches the ear 
even in the crypt of the church, when one 
stands silent in that shadow)' chamber be- 
side the tomlj of the ' ' Great Duke. ' ' The 
rumbling seems far, far away. No separate 
sound is distinguishable — it is one muffled 
roar that chants a constant dirge for England's 
heroes, while through the crypt and above in 
the church 

"The sound of those wrought for, 
And the feet of those he fought for, 
Echo round his bones for evermore." 

^i t- ^,^ A< '■\< ^ '^ 

In thinking of the Duke of Wellington, one 
is reminded of the curious condition by which 
certain of the Wellington estates are kept in 
the famil}'. Originally the property was be- 
queathed to the Duke by a wealthy admirer in 
remembrance of the great warrior's achieve- 
ments at Waterloo. It was to descend to Wel- 
lington's heirs on condition that on June i8th 
of everj' j^ear — the anniversary of the battle of 
Waterloo — the heir, or his representatives, 
should place, before high noon, a new French 
flag of silk in the Waterloo Chamber, one of 
the state apartments of Windsor Castle. It 
must be placed in position, therefore, on the 
morning of June i8th, neither the day before 
nor the day after. 

So every year members of the family set out 
in state for Windsor. They come in plenty of 
time to insure prompt arrival in spite of pos- 
sible accidents on the wa)', and are armed with 
several new French flags of silk. There are 
enough people in attendance to fulfil the cere- 
monies if delaj's or other mishaps should befall 
the chief members of the partj''. In fact, every 
possible precaution is taken to prevent the ex- 
change of flags happening either too soon or 
too late. For if they violated the above con- 
ditions of ownership in any one particular the 
estate would be forfeited immediately^ 

-)(. ;|< ^; ;!:: >i; :^ ^ 

One often hears of privileges or ownerships 
which hinge on just some such curious old 

One of these is the retention of land in a 
certain family as long as the dust of the origi- 
nal possessor is kept above ground. 

'K 'K •T^ 'l^ 'i^ 'I* 'i^ 

Readers of the " Lady of the Lake" will re- 
call ' ' the Bleeding Heart ' ' as the crest of the 
Douglas family, it having been chosen from 
the following circumstance : 

A historic room in Stirling Castle is the 



small apartment where James II of Scotland 
assassinated William, eighth Earl of Douglas. 
This- noble had conspired against the king, 
with the Earls of Ross and Crawford. With 
hopes of a friendly settlement, James invited 
him to come to Stirling, having first given 
him his word of safe conduct. 

Their interview took place in this small 
room. James tried to persuade the Douglas 
to give up his rebellious schemes, but the Earl 
obstinate!}' refused all conciliatory offers. 
James lost patience and flew into a terrible 
rage. Forgetting or disregarding the ro}'al 
safe conduct, he stabbed his guest to the heart 
and the body of the Earl was thrown out of 
the window. 

A design in stained glass has l^een placed 
in this window in memory of the nuu'dered 
Earl, and the principal figure in the design is 
a bleeding heart, which, ever since that 
treacherous deed, has been part of the Douglas 

From ' ' gray Stirling ' ' can be seen twelve 
battlefields, the most interesting of which is 
Bannockburn, where Robert Bruce won Scot- 
tish liberty from the English in 13 14. 

•Jfi * * >i< ;;< ;i; sjc 

Some people don't believe that story about 
St. Patrick and the snakes, but if they should 
visit the beautiful region of the Lakes of Kil- 
larney, in Ireland, they would be taken to the 
identical spot at the entrance to the Gap of 
Dunloe, where the good Saint stood when he 
banished the reptiles. 

If he is still skeptical, let him ride further 
into the gap, where he will meet with bright- 
eyed, rosy-cheeked Irish maidens, who can 
vouch for the whole story. The pretty, bare- 
footed "colleens" stand by the wayside, 
knitting soft, gray stockings, which the)' hope 
to sell to the tourist, along with a cool drink 
of fresh milk, or if the traveler prefers, a 
draught of "mountain dew" — (euphemistic 
term applied to water mixed with a less inno- 
cent beverage. ) 

The word "blarnej'," now a rather slang 
synonym for loquaciousness, is derived from 
the famous " Blarney-stone," which is part of 
a tower buttress of the renowned Blarney Cas- 
tle near Cork, Ireland. Now a fine old ruin, 
it was once the impregnable stronghold of a 
branch of the McCarthy's, one of the ancient 
royal races of Ireland. Many legends and 
superstitions cluster about its ivy-covered walk. 
Doul) the best known is the fabled j^ower 
of the Blarney-stone to impart irresistible per- 
sua.sive powers to whomsoever kisses it. 

The groves about Blarney are prettily des- 
cribed b)' the Irish poet, Croker : — 

" The groves of Blarney, 
The}' look as charming 
Down by the purling 
Of sweet, silent streams. 
Being banked with posies 
That spontaneous grow there. 
Planted in order 
By the sweet rock close. 

" 'Tis there the daisy. 
And the sweet carnation. 
The blooming pink. 
And the rose so fair; 
The daffy downdilly. 
Likewise the lily — 
All flowers that scent 
The sweet, fragrant air." 

— Theresa Pierce, '96. 


'7T HE study of Silas Marner's character is 
^^ the sttidy of a life blighted and sad- 
dened by injustice. Silas Marner had suffered 
almost everything that a man could suffer. 
He had been betrayed by his dearest friend, 
unjustly driven from home, and punished for 
a crime he had not committed. All this he 
had stiff ered, and as a result had lost confi- 
dence in man and trust in God, and had be- 
come a recluse in the little sequestered town 
of Ravaloe. 

There were two epochs in the life of Silas 
Marner while he was living at Ravaloe; the 
epoch during which he spent his time in 



hoarding money, and that when he took Eppie 
in charge. 

When Silas first came to Ra\-aloe he was 
fresh from his disgrace and wished only to be 
left in peace. He worked at his trade of 
weaving and soon began to save his earn- 
ings. Eittle by little he collected his coins. 
Each night he looked them over, counted them, 
and gloated over them ; he soon began to 
love them. Soon he gave np his life, his hopes 
and his passions to collecting and hoarding 
mone}'-. He was fast becoming a miser when 
a fortunate circiunstance stopped his moral 
decadence ; he was robbed. 

Under this additional misfortune, (for so it 
seemed to him), poor Marner must soon have 
fallen, but at the lowest ebb of his fortunes, 
the first ray of light burst upon him ; Eppie 
came to him. 

For one cold night, that little orphan, de- 
serted by friends (if indeed she had any), 
strayed into the house and heart of the deso- 
late man, and gave him something to work for 
and to love. 

Eppie' s coming opened the second epoch in 
Silas Marner's life. With Eppie came some 
one to love, some one to hope for, some one to 
work for. At once Silas awoke from his 
musing and sadness. He toiled for Eppie at 
the loom ; he walked with her in the fields ; 
his whole time was devoted to her care. Thus 
these two grew older side by side, the old 
man and the little girl; the one becoming 
older and feebler but at the same time happier 
and better, the other becoming more bright 
and cheerful each day. Tlie vacant spot in 
Marner's heart was filled ; the wound was fast 
healing. Eittle by little he was recalled to 
that world he had foresworn. Day by day he 
drew nearer to Eppie, and through Eppie to 
his neighbors. 

Thus time passed. Silas became fully recon- 
ciled to his fellow-men, and Eppie grew up to 
be a noble, high-spirited girl. With Eppie 
love and hope had returned, even when he 
seemed oppressed. 

Of the other characters, Dolly Winthrop, 
little Aaron's mother, deserves special notice 
as a fine example of the loving, indulgent 
mother, the friend of the sick, or of those in 
trouble, and the kind, helping neighbor. At 
times, .she may have been over-curious, but she 
was alwaj's open hearted, good natured, and 
sympathetic, ready to rejoice in another's hap- 
piness, or to comfort and bear aid in his mis- 

In religion, Dolly simply trusted where she 
could not see, but trusted with a zeal, which 
though blind, was whole-souled and sincere. In 
her own words, ' ' But now upo' Christmas da}^, 
this blessed Christmas as is ever coming, if you 
will take j'our dinner to the bakehus and go to 
church and see the holh' and the yew and hear 
the anthim and then take the sacrimen', you 
would be a deal the better, and you'd know 
which end 3'ou stood on, and you could put 
your trust wi' Them as knows better nor we 
do, seei'n' you'd ha' done what it lies on us all 
to do." Dolly may not have been well versed 
in the canons of the church, but in the last 
sentence, she stritck fairly into the Christian's 

When an author's views of every-day life 
are made to fit a purpose, when they are 
mingled with wise hints for our own better 
living, together with the truth, that the author 
believes, then we have the realistic-philosophic 
novel. The philosophic novel is full of all 
that the author has been able to glean from 
years of observation. Often these truths and 
thoughts are put into single sentences, but 
then these sentences are worth more than chap- 
ters of ordinary reading. The philosophic 
novel gives us rules and guides for our better 
action. Silas Marner is full of such little 
helps. The philosophic-realistic novel is as 
though some artist stood before us explaining 
some picture of life, and at the same time giv- 
ing us valuable suggestions all on things that 
most concern r:s. James Cromer, '97. 

There is ever a song somewhere. 





In the Form of 


I come from God's eternal home, 

And at my first appearing, 
In form, a little child I come. 

With work towards me nearing. 

Then many fears before me rise, 

A few of which I conquer. 
The others will I ne'er despise, 

But work to gain some honor. 

Till Death's dark portal passed, and so 

I join ni}' Lord forever, 
For though to earth I come and go, 

I shall live on forever. 

I gaily trip o'er stony wa^-s. 

Suppressing tears and grieving. 
Till passing into happier days 

I laugh to see them leaving. 

I laugh and labor as I go 

To join my L,ord forever. 
For though to earth I come and go, 

I shall live on forever. 

I pass through strange vicissitudes 
With joy entwined with sorrow, 

While faith and trust are interludes 
Which give the strength I borrow, 

To bring my friends along, and so 

I join my lord forever, 
For though to earth I come and go, 

I shall live on forever. 

Sometimes I lose my peaceful trust 
And think my daj^s will darken. 

Till some light breeze dispels the dust, 
And clearl}' bids me harken. 

Full soon I hear His voice and so 

I join my Lord forever. 
For though to earth I come and go, 

I shall live on forever. 

— LizziK Keij,ogg, '98. 


♦i|^ECEIVING a reqtiest to attend a din- 
II \ ner which was given to celebrate the 
eighty-third birthday of my honored 
grandsire, we, on the day in question, partook 
of a most bountiful, after which we 
begged the old gentleman to tell us .something 

of his youth. He loved to tell of the old times, 
and soon spoke as follows : 

" I am one of the very few, now living, who 
saw this country in all of its native and origi- 
nal beauty, before the ax of the pioneer had 
marred its wild and romantic grandeur and 
scenery. I saw it at a time when 

" ' Nothing dwelt but Ijeasts of prey. 
And men as wild and fierce as they.' " 

I was here when the Indian ruled supreme, 
and was monarch of all he surveyed ; when his 
tomahawk and scalping knife were the terror 
of the few white .settlers. Cabins were scat- 
tered over a radius of three or four miles, and 
their location was known to the weary traveler 
only by the slowly and lazily curling wreaths 
of the smoke that rose here and there above 
the forest , which has since given place to 
the great commercial and railroad city of In- 
dianapolis. This ' boundless contiguity of 
shade ' was considered the finest hunting 
ground of the great West ; it was guarded 
by its dusky owners with a vigilant eye, and 
they were jealous of any innovations upon 
their .soil. They regarded it as a perpetual 
heritage for themselves, given by the ' Great 
Spirit.' I have seen big tears drop from the 
eyes of many a brave and daring warrior as he 
bid farewell to his old home. These Indians 
had descended in a direct line from the tribe 
that smoked the calumet and negotiated the 
treaty of peace with William Penn, under the 
old elm tree at their village of Shackamaxon, 
on the bank of the Delaware in Pennsylvania. 
' ' Father being oppo.sed to .slavery, freed his 
slaves and left his old Kentucky home for a 
home north of the Ohio River. He dispo.sed 
of every article of wood or iron furniture that 
could possibly be done without. He then 
loaded a large wagon with heavy 
necessary furniture, and provision sufficient 
for the winter's use. The beds and bedding 
and of the clothing were .so arranged 
and packed as to be carried on the backs of 
horses. Feather beds were rolled up and tied 
together in such a way that one would rest on 


"Thk high schooi. annual. 

each side of tlie horse, forming a platform on 
the back of the animal where one or two chil- 
dren might sit. My mother and grandmother 
were provided with single horses and side-sad- 
dles, and when the whole caravan was in mo- 
tion, it would remind a person of a cavalcade 
of Bedouins or Arabs. 

' ' We found a cabin that had been raised and 
covered, but neither door nor window had 
been cut. My father did not take the liberty 
of cutting out the doors lest he should not get 
them in as the owner wished ; so he pried up 
two corners of the house and took out the third 
log from the bottom, which would, by climb- 
ing, be sufficient for ingress and egress. My 
grandmother's going in and out afforded much 
amusement. She was a large but stout 
woman, nearly as thick as she was long, and 
none enjoyed the fun more than the old lady 

" When it became known that we wished to 
build a cabin, the entire male population of 
the neighborhood were prompt to tender their 
services. Our new cabin was far removed 
from the present comforts and luxuries en- 
joyed even by the poorest citizen of Indian- 
apolis. It consisted simply of two rooms with 
puncheon floors, through which holes were 
bored. Into these holes forked sticks were 
stuck, and the beds laid on other sticks resting 
in the forks. We had two chairs and used a 
box-lid for a table, while stools were made out 
of rough boards and sticks. One side of the 
house was entirely occupied by a large fire- 
place, and each day a back-log was hauled in 
by a team of horses which passed directly 
through the house. Much care was taken to 
have a large bed of. coals ready to be covered 
with ashes each night, for our fire, when once 
out, was hard to start, as we had no matches. 
One day we children were left in charge of the 
fire, and through carelessness it was allowed to 
go out. The onlj' thing to be done was to go 
to a neighbor, some half a mile off, and bor- 
row fire. 

"We brought with us a carpet, which did 

not quite cover the floor, thus leaving a bare 
space at the edge. The people, not being ac- 
customed to carpets, would come in and walk 
around on the uncarpeted portion instead of 
the covered floor. 

' ' The first Christmas dinner we ate is yet 
fresh in my mind. A large wild turkey was 
killed for the occasion within one hundred 
5'ards of the door, and near where Washington 
street now crosses the canal. The fowl was 
hung by a wire to the rafter of the cabin in 
front of the large fire place. I can see it now, 
as the draft caused by the fire kept the turkey 
turning around and around, first twisting the 
wire up to the ceiling and then untwisting it. 
In this way it was browned most thoroughly. 
What that Christmas dinner lacked in the 
variety and style of the present day, was made 
up in the happiness and content with which it 
was partaken. 

" On one occasion, I went with my father in 
quest of 'hog meat.' When about half way 
home, we came to an encampment of Dela- 
wares. The chief was not slow in making a 
proposition to trade for the hogs. He offered 
bear meat, turkeys, venison, and skins of dif- 
ferent kinds, and finally offered to pledge his 
silver hat bands, all of which my father re- 
jected. He then said if my father would not 
trade, some of the young men would follow us 
and take the pork from us. Just at this time, 
an old squaw brought up a little Indian girl, 
about my size and age, and proposed to trade 
her for the hogs, thus giving me a squaw. 
This amused the Indians, and my father tak- 
ing advantage of their mei'riment, moved on. 

' ' Well I remember the first Fourth of July 
celebration in Indianapolis. The barbecue 
was in the middle of Washington street. A 
fine buck had been killed the day before and 
was roasted whole and partaken of by the en- 
tire population of the town and surrounding 
country. After dinner, the people were enter- 
tained by a teamster, who dressed himself in 
a fantastic garb, singing comic songs, and in 
various ways amusing the people. This was 



the first clown that performed in public in this 
city, although we have had them by the hun- 
dreds since in our legislative halls, courts of 
justice and political conventions. 

' ' I love to recall those old times when 
money was not the standard by which char- 
acter was weighed ; when honesty and integrity 
were the passports to preferment; when all 
were on a social equality. We received our 
mail but once a week, and it was brought in 
the saddle-bags of the mail carrier, who had 
to ride on horseback from Connersville. On 
the evening of his arrival, there was always a 
dance, as he was the only fiddler in the 

' ' Neither shoe shops nor ready-made shoes 
were common in those days ; but every shoe 
was made to order b}^ the shoemaker, who 
traveled from house to house repairing and 
making all the much needed shoes for the fam- 
ily. One time, being in a hurry for a pair of 
shoes, I sat up all night by the side of the 
shoemaker to keep him awake, and remind 
him of my haste. 

" Photographs were a thing of the future, 
and to have a likeness taken, it took, not only 
five dollars of our hard earned money, but it 
also took five minutes of perfect composure to 
produce the old time daguerreotype. 

" When I speak of my old home, I am car- 
ried back in memory to my childhood's tender 
years, when my Sabbath school teacher taught 
me to lisp the A B C's at the first school ever 
organized in this city, and kept in a cabinet 
.shop on the south side of the State House 

" In 1826, there appeared an announcement 
that ' the trustees of the school attached to the 
Presbyterian meeting house, give notice to 
the public that Mr. Ebenezer Sharpe, late 
principal of the Paris Academy, Kentuck}-, has 
taken charge of the school, and has this day, 
with two assistants, commenced instructing.' 
The school was dignified by the high sound- 
ing name of the ' Indianapolis Academy. ' In it 
classics, history and geography, as well as the 

higher branches of mathematics, were taught. 
In order that you may see what it cost the 
fathers and grandfathers in Indianapolis to be 
educated, I give the price of tuition : 

For spelling and reading, per quarter. $2 00 

Writing and arithmetic 2 50 

Geography, English grammar, mathematics, 

the languages and philosoph)^ 3 00 

This is an era in the history of education in 

' ' I have been an eye witness to many great 
changes in this country. I have seen the 
cabin of the pioneer give place to the elegant 
home of the farmer ; the sickle and reap-hook 
to the cradle and sc3'the, and thej' in turn to 
the reaper and self-binder ; the slow-nodding 
ox team, with its one thousand, five hundred 
pounds of merchandise, to the locomotive with 
its hundred of tons. ' vSuch are the changes 
which a few years bring abovtt, and so do 
things pass away, like a tale that is told.' " 
Cora S. Bugby, '96. 


MHILE visiting recently in a large city, 
I was much interested in the daily pa- 
pers. On opening the sheet, I usually found a 
good deal of space de\'oted to the most recent 
murder. The entire circumstances were given 
with the most minute details; the spot where 
the crime occurred, the clothes worn bj' the 
victim , pictures of the murdered and the mur- 
derer, interviews with the latter and accounts 
of their former lives. The murderer's defense 
and his chances in court were detailed exact- 
ly, for of course the public know every- 
thing about these interesting people. Next 
came very often some facts about the marriage 
of some person, prominent because of money 
or social position. It is quite necessary for us 
to be informed what the wedding presents were, 
to have full and detailed descriptions of the 
trousseau, and to know all the bride's habits. 
Turning on, we reached an account of the do- 
ings of some noted man during the day. How 



satisfactory it is for us to know what he ate 
for breakfast, where he buttoned his overcoat, 
and what friends he visited. 

The advertisements of patent medicines are 
an important part of the paper, and are gener- 
ally accompanied by portraits of the people 
who have used them, and full statements of their 
conditions before and after taking these valu- 
able remedies. A few columns are devoted to 
the theaters, and some space is occupied by 
political affairs and miscellaneous notices. 
Then the instructive and profitable composition 
is finished. L^uciA S. Holliday, '96. 



'^T'^HE High School Senate has had a most 
^^ profitable ^-ear under its critic, Miss 
Donnan. The improvement has been marked 
in most of the Senators, and many make very 
good speeches. The Presidents for the year 
have been Senators Palmer, Piatt, and Frye. 
But one meeting of the year has been disor- 
derly, and that one was so interesting that we 
include the Secretary's (?) report: 

The other day Piatt attempted to braid 
Senator Frj^e's hair; intruding his bod}' cor- 
poral into the Frj'ing-pan; he was hurled 
upon the fire in the shape of a Qua}-, where 
he Lodged until that gentleman began to pull 
off his Mantle and Vest, saying that he'd 
"Teller" whether there would be Warren the 
camp or not. Fr^'e secured a full Nelson on 
Piatt, and was so angry that he could hear the 
Bacon sizzle, when Cannon, Hal(e)ing a pass- 
ing policeman from the window, went off, 
knocking apart the contestants. After a Call 
around the corner, it was decided to Berry the 
hatchet and to continue to Bate the lion. 

"The Irre;pressible." 

They are never alone that are accompanied 
with noble thoughts. Philip Sidney. 

There is always a best way of doing any 
thing, if it be to boil an egg. Emerson. 

HS I sit on the broad porch of an old- 
fashioned house and look out from be- 
neath the low eaves, I see a delightful, quiet 
corner of the small garden a mass of fresh 
spring green, quivering in the soft breeze of a 
perfect May morning. A charm is contrib- 
uted to the picture by the half-rustic appear- 
ance which it presents, but its chief claim to 
a place in my affections lies in the familiaritj' 
of the spot and its associations. 

Leading up to the steps of the porch is the 
smooth, grass-fringed path, on one side of 
which is a comfortable-looking rustic seat, 
cool and inviting beneath the dark shade of 
the long, low arbor, the roof of which is a 
thick, but loose and graceful overlapping of the 
broad leaves of a grape vine, which has clam- 
bered with such zeal over the gray frame-work 
that the crossing and re-crossing of the long 
branches forms a firm net-work of delicate red- 
brown threads, now only half visible here and 
there from the outside. Nearer the ground 
the leaves are less dense, and form a sort of 
lace-work, through which may be seen the 
curves of the loose web of slender, shredded, 
seemingly too frail branches which seem to rise 
together, yet apart, out of the tufts of long 
grass at the roots. A coating of tiny light 
green ringlets on the ground gives evidence 
that the grape-^■ine is j ust passing its blossom- 
ing season; and another close look will re- 
veal, beneath the shelter of the leaves, lit- 
tle green, feathery spraj^s, which are to be- 
come the rich, purple clusters of the autumn. 
The grass which borders the path, stretches 
over the whole of this side of the garden in 
quiet greenness, like a beautiful carpet, which 
the sunlight will not fade, and which yields 
with uncomplaining grace to the foot-falls of 
those who love this spot. At the farther end 
of the garden, this stretch of green is inter- 
rupted bj-- a long, low .structure, which has now 
fallen into disuse, its old, gray, decaying wall 
tenderly shielded from the glare of the sun's 



rays or the unkind glance of careless eyes b}^ 
the intertwining branches of a trumpet- vine, 
whose scaly bark spring has artfully concealed, 
except at the base, by a profusion of foliage, 
and whose dark green, produced partly by the 
shadows, caused by its own denseness, is an 
effective contrast to the lighter shade of the 
grape vine. A few feet from the. roots of the 
trumpet-vine, but also against the old wall rise 
the curling, wayward branches of a rose-bush, 
from beneath whose leaves peep the blos- 
soms, whose creamy perfection Nature has 
granted earlier than usual this year. The half- 
leaning, faintly moss-tinted fence, which forms 
the other of the two visible boundaries of the 
garden, is partly concealed for a little distance 
by a cluster of sweet-pea vines, which have 
not yet attained fheir full beauty. The sharp 
angle formed bj' the fence and the wall is 
entirely hidden by a large snow-ball bush, be- 
neath whose dark, damp shade a few ferns lift 
their feathery forms. Not far from the porch, 
a large old apple tree spreads its low, curi- 
ously-shaped boughs so widely that on the 
opposite .side, they reach in .silent appeal to the 
deep blue of heaven; and on this side, the 
lower ones kiss the wandering tendrils of the 
grapevine, as if this were a fitting .spot in 
which to whisper Nature's secrets. Beneath 
this leafy canopy is swung a hanunock, .so 
placed that the whole beautj' of the spot .seems 
to have been grouped for the benefit of who- 
ever might here rest his weary head. Above 
this scene bends the " loving blue," as if in 
benediction. The sun is not yet high enough 
to tovicli more than the tops of the foliage, 
making the grape-leaves glisten, but leaving 
undisturbed the dew-drop on the rose. 

Myra Keixogg, '97. 


brought the duke of Hispania, nightlj^ to ac- 
cept of their hospitality. 

Before the Duke's arrival, Mrs. De Frivol 
had been busily engaged supervising the work 
of the embroiderers and engravers, who were 
busy inscribing upon every available article the 
new family crest, for which the good dame had 
offered a fabulous sum to the designer pre.sent- 
ing the most pleasing and striking concoction. 
The exquisite table linen was heavy with the 
embroidered crest; a special set of crested but- 
tons had been ordered for the coachman's coat, 
and the newly-painted carriage bore the crest 
in huge and glaring outline. 

Miss Belle De Frivol had succeeded in capti- 
vating the heart of the young Duke, and the 
engagement had been announced. Some envi- 
ous hearts were cruel enough to say that the 
fortune of the young heiress played a more im- 
portant part in the affair than did her charms. 

The Duke had neither fortune nor a clean, 
unsullied reputation with which to recommend 
him.self, but his title and castle, though debt- 
laden and decayed, covered all his deficiencies 
in the eyes of the ambitious maiden. 

Her life had been spent in ' ' Castles in Spain, ' ' 
and as a realization of all her worldly a.spira- 
tions was within her reach, she was willing to 
sacrifice her.self for the unmeaning title, while 
truer, nobler, and more proper suitors .stood 
by, powerless to throw out the snare of a title, 
aud offering only their true hearts, un.selfish 
and unmercenary love, and the plain appella- 
tion of a "Mrs." 

Mattie Howes, '96. 

Around the man who seeks a noble end. 
Not angels, but divinities attend. 


No fate, save by the victim's fault, is low, 
For God hath writ all dooms magnificent. 


^^^HE week had been a busy one in the ele- 
\m gant home of the De Frivols; the lavish 
entertainments which had been given had 

Just do your, and praise or blame 
That f oilers that, counts just the same. 





"^^^HE dark, heavy clouds are hanging low, 
\^ apparently oppressed by some heavy 
burden. Onlj^ here and there, is left a ragged 
patch of streaked blue. The bright, morning 
sun has waded so deep that his silvery rays are 
graduall}'^ breaking off, and now the great 
luminary is hidden from view. The clouds 
have been busily gathering for over two hours, 
until the once cheerful .sk}' has taken on 
a fierce, restless appearance. The still, balmy 
air shows no sign of discontent ; the boughs of 
the leafy trees are not waving or groaning, nor 
is there any sound or motion to break the still 
monotony of the calm. 

The blue darkness of the surrounding trees, 
and the overhanging clouds, makes our tent 
very dark. From the little stool on which I 
have been sitting all the morning, I can see 
in the distance a heavy, gray mist enwrap- 
ping the dense thicket, and the fields and hills 
in front of it, as it creeps on toward me. The 
little twittering brook, which sings over a 
thousand slippery rocks and pebbles as it passes 
the right side of our camp, and diffuses such a 
delightful, fresh coolness, in contrast to the 
hot June weather, has taken on a black-looking 
aspect, and no longer reflects the arching tree- 
tops in clear outline. A very deep mel- 
ancholy fills the air, and a few moments after, 
the misty vapor is claiming everything. Now 
it begins to fall in small drops, thick and 
fast, pattering faintly but joj'fully on the hard 
clay banks of the creek. Suddenly, multi- 
tudes of the imprisoned drops in the changing 
clouds seem to tear loose from their cells, and 
rush down furiously upon the tree-tops, fields 
and hills. The leafy thickness above is not 
able to screen the gaping, thirsty earth from the 
wrath of the clouds. The skj' continues to 
weep for hours; the boughs and branches are 
all dripping, and the thorns are wearing larger 
studs; the stream is joj^fuUy singing in double 
its musical loudness. The steam^' air seems to 
suffuse everj'thing. After another momentary 

deluge of those earth-rejoicing drops, the 
clouds seem satisfied and close thetr fruitful 
doors. Before the dimples in the face of the 
stream are all gone, a gleam of golden light 
pours down from a rent in the distant western 
clouds, and the earth shines forth in her robe 
of diamonds. 

Edgar W. Banner, '97. 


" His eye was beauty's powerless slave, 
And his the ear which discord pains : 

Few guessed beneath his aspect grave 
What passions strove in chains." 

Whittier's natural inclination as a writer was 
to pour forth his soul, singing the beauties of 
nature ; but his strong sense of duty led him 
to use all his powers against slavery. 

Longfellow looked at nature as one would 
hear and take to heart the sajdngs of a great 
teacher; Irving saw nature as one would look 
at a beautiful sun.set and afterwards tell his 
friends about it ; but Whittier felt that when 
he was with nature, he was in the great tem- 
ple of God, where all things commanded his 

But probably Whittier's greatest strength as 
a writer is in his poems on .slavery, which were 
written with all the fervor of a great purpose 
and meant to appeal to the conscience of all 
who read them. I think that in all of Whit- 
tier's descriptions we catch a glimpse of the 

Some authors have written to while away 
the time, some to give utterance to what they 
could not help saying ; but Whittier is a noble 
example of a person endowed with great pow- 
ers and using them not for himself but for the 
greatest good to the greatest number. 

MargarKT McGregory, '99. 

The man that stands by himself, the uni- 
verse stands bv him also. Emerson. 

We only believe as deep as we live. 





rionday, October 28, 1895. 

Mr. John Cleland read to the entire morning 
school his interesting paper on "Paper." It 
traced the history of that useful article from 
Papyrus days to our own time. 

Tuesday, December 17. 

Mr. Henry D. Pierce talked to the Seniors 
and Juniors, in Mrs. Hufford's room, about 
London. His talk was illustrated by a large 
picture of old London, and also bj^ a number of 
small curiosities and mementos of his recent 
visit there. 

Friday, December 20. 

There were Christmas hall exercises for the 
morning school. 

Friday, January 17, i8p6. 

In the evening, at the Grand Opera Hou,se, 
the January Class of '96 gave a most creditable 
performance of Shakespeare's "King Henry 
VIII," with costumes, .scenery, and all other 
accessories complete. 

With the proceeds of this performance, the 
class presented to the High School a superb 
cast, more than life-size, of the Apollo Belvi- 
dere, which is now in place in High School 

The cast for "Henry VIII" was as follows: 

King Henry VIII Ira Holmes 

Cardinal Wolsey Clarence Tucker 

Cardinal Campeius John Sickler 

Duke of Norfolk .Charles Kettenbach 

Duke of Buckingham Bertrand B. Downey 

Duke of Suffolk, and first gentleman. Walter H. Judd 

Earl of Surrey Fred Bachman 

Sir Thomas Lovell and Cromwell Dwight S. Ritter 

Lord Chamberlain, and second gentleman. F. L,. Bridges 

Queen Catherine Margaret L. Sliover 

Anne Bullen. Ellen S. Baker 

Old Lady, friend of Anne Agnes Ketcham 

_,- .J J, .- f Martha Drapier 

Maids of Honor | j^^ ^ q^^^^^ 


Friday, January 31. 

The twenty-eighth Commencement of the 
High School took place at Tomlinson Hall. 
The speakers of the evening^were : 

Jeannette Herron, 
Charles Kettenbach, 
Martha V. Anderson, 
Thomas McGee, 

Clarence A. Tucker, 
Anna V. Outland, 
Bertrand B. Downej-, 

May Wheeler, 

Mabel G. Hank. 
Saturday, February 8. 

From 3 to 6 p. m., the June Class of '96 was 
" at home," in High School Hall, to the Fac- 
ult}', the post-graduates, and the juniors, the 
guests of honor being the January Class of '96. 

Friday, February 28. 

Miss Jane Addams of Hull House, Chicago, 
addre.s.sed the morning school. 

Saturday Afternoon, April 18. 

The Annual Interclass Mock Trial of the 
Civil Government classes took place in High 
School Hall. 


Judge. Robert Hobbs 

Prosecution ' J"''^ Hobbs 

irosecution ^ ^^^^^^^^^ p_ Schmidt 


) Frank T. Baker 

\ Leo M. Rappaport 

Defendant. James McGee 

vSheriff Eugene Fletcher 

-r, -i-fc f Warren Manchester 

Baihits • T-, 1 1 T^ 1 1 

(, Edward Eckhouse 

Witnesses (Prosecution) — Fanny Defrees, Cuba Rea- 
gan, Guj' Mahurin, Lawrence Davis, Dwight 

Witnesses (Defense) — J. Sickler, Virginia Sale, C. 
Kettenbach, Elmer Scott, W. Atkins. 

Tuesday, April 28. 

Mrs. Sidney Lanier talked to the morning 
school, and read some of her hu.sband's poems. 

Tuesday, May 5. 

Miss Margaret Merker, of Louisville, Ky., 
talked to the morning school about the evolu- 
tion of the Doric column. 

Monday, May 11. 

President Burroughs, of Wabash College, 
gave the afternoon .school an inspiring talk 
upon the advantages of higher editcation. 

nay 14. 

Dr. H. A. Cleveland gave a talk to the after- 
noon school. He recommended his young 
hearers to pay close attention to nature; he 
urged them to stitdy the trees and the^birds 



and the flowers. The speaker's genial popu- 
larity at once made all the boys and girls his 

Saturday, May 23. 

Tile June Class of '96 was entertained by the 
classes of '97. Music, refreshments and beau- 
tiful decorations all served to enliven the hour. 

Also nay 23. 

Dr. Martin and classes made an expedition 
to St. Paul in search of geological and laotani- 
cal knowledge and specimens. 


June 6th. — Field Day. 

June 8th. — Class Day. 

June 9th. — Reading of Compositions in 
High School Hall. 

June I oth . — Commencement . 

June I ith. — Reception to the classes of '96, 
given by Mr. and Mrs. Hufford. 

June 12th. — Alumni Reunion. 

One of the most notable events of the win- 
ter was the presentation of scenes from Shake- 
speare's Henry VIII. , bj' members of the Janu- 
ary Class of '96, a peculiarly' gifted class. It 
was given on the seventeenth of January, at 
the Grand Opera House, with all the life and 
enthusiasm of a youthful company. 

What delightful bustle and confusion thrilled 
the hearts of the performers on that happy 
occasion ! Bo}'s, unaccustomed to the braver}^ 
of their attire, were manfully struggling with 
belts and buckles, and becoming styles of wigs 
and mustachios. Cries of, ' ' What in the 
Dickens is this for ? " " Fasten this button for 
the love of Heaven ! ' ' and other calls for help, 
were heard from every dressing-room. 

Even the girls, strange as it may seem, were 
painfully agitated as to their appearance. 
Powder and rouge were used with professional 
dexterity. Eyes of a limpid hue immediatel}' 
became black and lustrous, iinder the hands of 
the assistants. 

The boj'S looked grand with their clashing 

swords, their shining helmets, and glittering 
attire ; but the girls ! — could any words de- 
scribe the bevy of loveliness that dazzled the 
audience, when the blushing, winsome maidens 
swept past in their velvet trains and powdered 
hair ? 

Courtiers and maids of honor swarmed upon 
the stage, and their ease and dignity must 
have impressed the most cynical critic. The 
King's demeanor was noble, and his walk, 
lordly; the Cardinal's red robe was as impres- 
sive, or rather as startling, as a danger signal. 
It was a vision of uncertain limbs, of trouble- 
some trains, of threatening swords, never to 
be forgotten. 

The plaj'ers were partly trained to this per- 
fection by an ex-actress, Mrs. Eeppelman ; but, 
of course, much of that remarkable talent, dis- 
covered by the audience, was the expression of 
native genius. 

We are happy to report that the net pro- 
ceeds of the play amounted to something over 
$150, with which an imposing statue of the 
Apollo Belvidere has been purchased as a gift 
to the High School. 

We trust that this image of perfect, manly 
beauty, will be a continual inspiration to noble 
living. Januarj', '96. 

The Senior Debating Club met for organi- 
zation October 8, '95, and the final meeting 
was held Ma}' 15, '96. Throughout the year 
the members have taken an enthusiastic part 
in the programs, and the debates have been 
hotly contested. All feel that the practice in 
parliamentary law and in argument has been 
very beneficial. What the practical benefit to 
the members will be, the future alone can de- 
cide ; but from present indications the future 
for oratory in these United States is undoubt- 
edly bright and promising. We feel that the 
present seniors will say, as seniors have said 
before them, that some of the pleasantest and 
most profitable hours of their school life have 
been spent in the sessions of the Senior Debat- 
ino^ Club. 




Colors : Turquoise blue and white. 
Motto : Let all the aims thou aim'st at, 

Be thy country's, thy God's, and 

Martha E. Anderson, Artlmr Metcalf, 

Fred Bachman, Martha L. Metcalf, 

Frank L. Bridges, Adelaide M. Moore, 

George R. Brown, Alice Morgan, 

Edgar Burton, Anna V. Outland, 

Adah Clark, Edward Parmelee, 

Mary Collins, Josephine Pugh, 

Bertrand B. Downey, Dwight S. Ritter. 

Martha Drapier, Tula Sater, 

Elizabeth Faust, Edmond Schiffling, 

Eugene Fletcher, Adolpli Schleicher, 

James E. Floyd, Esther Fay Shover, 

Mabel G. Hauk, Margaret Shover, 

Jeannette Herron, Nettie Shover, 

Ira M. Holmes, John Sickler, 

Eulu Holmes, Etta Smith, 

Rose Holmes, Myrtle Smytlie, 

Walter Judd, Ora Spires, 

Agnes Ketcham, Effie Ethel Stafford, 

Charles Kettenbach, David Stradling, 

Kate Levy, Bertha Tanim, 

Thomas McGee, Clarence A. Tucker, 

Gertrude May, Percy Walker, 

May Wheeler. 


February 15, 19 10. 

In the Social World. 
Mr. David Stradling, of this city, has moved 
to New York City, where he has become a 
member of the Four Hundred and is quite a 
' ' beau ideal ' ' of all the young ladies. His 
beautiful new home on Fifth avenue is just 

The great lecturer on athletics. Miss May 
Wheeler, whose early home was in this city, 
will deliver her renowned lecture on ' ' The 
Good Effects of Dancing," next Tuesday even- 
ing. She will be tendered a large dance after 
the lecture by the S. V. Club. 

Miss Effie Stafford, who was some years ago 

stricken deaf and dumb bj' an accident, has 
opened a private school for persons similarly 

Mr. Thomas McGee's lecture on "Ancient 
Greece ' ' last evening was delivered to a 
crowded house. The most important thing, 
though, was his use of a machine of his own 
invention, a perspiration catcher, which he 
wore around his neck, thus keej^ing his collar 
from wilting. 

Miss Mabel Hauk has just had published an 
instructive but interesting book on ' ' How to 
Raise Canaries." 

All Indianapolis is in a state of excitement 
over the re-appearance in thiscitj' of the world- 
renowned actor, Clarence Tucker. He will be 
at the new theater, which is just finished, and 
seats three thousand persons. Tucker has 
not been here since 1896, when he appeared as 
" Cardinal Wolsey " in " King Henry VIII." 

Mr, John Sickler, the veterinary surgeon, will 
give the Sunday-school lesson to the Sunday- 
school Teachers' Association next Fridaj;- even- 

Miss Myrtle Smythe was married last week 
to a well-known and wealthy lawyer, whom 
she met while visiting out of town. The maid 
of honor was Miss Anna Outland, who lost her 
voice on the day of the wedding, but the doc- 
tors said it was only temporary, and that when 
her voice did return she must use it more fre- 
qently, as it was owing to the infrequent use 
of it that the vocal organs became paralyzed. 

Every one is looking forward to the coming 
of the great Schifiiing Ochestra. Prices, $10, 
$8, $5, $3- 

The Ritter Dancing Acadeni}- will be opened 
next week. Mr. Dwight Ritter, the teacher, 
is assisted by his wife and Mr. George Brown. 

Miss Martha Metcalf is riding a new Smalley 

Mr. Bertrand Downey has just returned from 
a wheeling trip across the United States. His 



face is covered with beard and mustache so that 
his old friends hardly know him. He is run- 
ning for Senator of the United States where he 
will be greatly appreciated for his intelligent 

Mr. Adolf Schleicher was not so slow on his 
last snipe-hunting trip but that he found a third 
bride for whom he is refurnishing his home. 
However, his den is not to be remodeled as the 
walls are covered with dinner cards, quick 
sketches, and snap shots of his numerous 

Miss Ada Moore left to-day for St. Mary's 
convent where she will become a nun. On the 
same train with her was Miss Percy Walker, 
who is on her way to New York Cit};", where 
she will be made president of a charity organi- 

Mr. Ira Holmes has resigned from the 
opera company which gave " Henry VIII " 
here a few years ago, and is traveling with 
Buffalo Bill as the fat man. 

Miss Nettie Shover is at an Indian school in 
Nebraska teaching the young Indians to play 
the harp. She heralds all news from the East 
with delight. 

Miss Elizabeth Faust has secured a position 
with the Morrison Opera Company for the 
coming season. 

Our new tax collector is Edward Parmelee. 

Mr. Chas. Kettenbach, remembering the 
motto of his class, ' ' Let all the ends thou 
aim'st at be thj^ country's, thy God's, and 
truth's," has joined the standing army. 

At the great Art Exhibit in Paris, is a very 

fine water color by Miss Margaret Shover. It 
is a picture of a chariot race, the winners be- 
ing four large horses guided by the hand of a 
fair young woman. 

A certain young lady, Miss Herron by 
name, each month orders two dozen bouquets 
of flowers ; these she has distributed among 
her gentleman friends and former teachers. 
She has not given up this habit which she 
practiced in her j^ounger days, although she 
will soon be married and move East. 

Miss Esther Shover, who is to be married in 
June, has received as a present from the groom 
a thoroughbred Kentucky saddle horse. She 
has named it ' ' Bluebeard. ' ' 

The engagemnet of Miss Agnes Ketcham to 
the commanding general of the Salvation Army 
has been announced. Miss Ketcham joined 
the Army some time ago, and while this 
fall, painted banners for the Army, which have 
gained great renown. Miss Ketcham will be 
greatly missed in the musical circles here. 

Miss Gertrude May wears upon the third 
finger of her left hand a large diamond ring, 
which she did not wear before she went to New 
York, and spent last summer and fall. She 
has grown quite fleshy in the last few years. 

A new barber shop has just been set up in 
the Bates House which is run by Mr. Edgar 
Burton. He runs it on a grand scale and 
makes shaving and oiling the hair a specialty. 

It is noticed that Miss Martha Drapier and 
Miss Rose Holmes are rivals for the attention 
of a certain young man. He has been known 
to give them both flowers at the same time. 





Colors : Green and white. 

Motto : "Be ashamed to die until you have 
achieved some victory for hu- 


Florence Atkins, 
Ellen Baker, 
Frank Baker, 
Mamie Bass, 
John Berrj'hill, 
John Brinkley, 
Daniel Brown, 
Cora Bugby, 
Walter Butler, 
Ethel Claybourne, 
Ethel Cleland, 
Emma Clinton, 
Edith Keay, 
Leonard Cook, 
Grace Cunningham, 
Lucy Dickson, 
Irvin Elder, 
Edna Fohl, 
Edna Forkner, 
Ira Foxworth}', 
Lillian Gibbs, 
Waited Given, 
Jennie Gorman, 
Nellie Green, 
Mabel Guhck, 
Alice Hendrickson, 
Robert Hobbs, 
Lucia Holliday, 
Edna Horwitz, 
Lena Howard, 
Willis Howard, 
Mattie Howes, 
Nellie Hurley, 
Laura Ingersoll, 
Clara Ingram, 
Dee Johnson, 
Estelle Johnson, 
Margaret Jordan, ■ 


Deane Kendall, 
Fred Kendall, 
Anna Laughlin, 
Carrie Lauter, 
Etta Lewis, 
Grace McComiick, 
Emilie McCuUough, 
Pet McFarland, 
James McGee, 
Elizabeth Mcintosh, 
Lviella McLain, 
Guy Mahurin, 
Florence Martin, 
Thomas Moore, 
Lillian Morgan, 
Judson Moschell, 
Owen Mothershead, 
Jeannette Newland, 
Blanche Noel, 
Ida Osgood, 
Blanchard Pettijohn, 
Theresa Pierce, 
Ida Pingpank, 
Helen Porter, 
Louise Wright, 
Leo Rappaport, 
Kate Ritchie, 
Mattie Roach, 
Virginia Sale, 
Estelle Selig, 
Fred Judson, 
Mabel P. Schmidt, 
Bertha Wright, 
Edgar Taylor, 
Minnie Thompson, 
Kate Warren, 
Florence Wineman, 
Fannie Woodward, 

^^^HE June Class of '96 is the first class to 
Vi^ have organized earlier than the Senior 
year. In March, 1894, our formal organiza- 
tion occurred. But we cannot justly claim to 
have accomplished this alone. It was under 
the guidance of our friend and teacher, Miss 
Dye, that the Class of '96 made this first step 
in its history, and to her is due the thanks for 
many features of its progress. 

The life of the Class of '96 has not been a 
checkered one. Neither can it be said that its 
course has flowed on smoothlj^ with no ob- 
stacles in the way to ripple the genial current 
of its advancement. Quite the contrary, — but 
many of these incidents, let us leave unmen- 
tioned, locked securely in the treasury' of class 
meeting ' ' secrets. ' ' 

The first emblem of our union was apparent 
in the colors, moss green and white, whose 
significance, unfortunately, some hostile fac- 
tions have interpreted much to our disad- 
vantage. However, we have not repented of 
our choice, which is now more pleasing than 
ever, in the artistic design of our class-pin. 

Next, our minds were turned to deeds of 
charity. As a result, our memory will be per- 
petuated, by the noble busts in High School 
corridor. One 

" Seems to the rushing multitude to call. 

And speak of 'Problems,' 'Concord Fights,' and tricks 

Of 'bumble-bees' and 'fresh Rhodoras' tall. 

And to its base a tablet we did fix. 

Writ thus : ' Presented by the Class of '96.' " 

And on another pedestal, with a similar sub- 
script, is the face of our revered Darwin. 

During the Junior year, class interest 
seemed to be on the wane. But a bright idea 
occurred to some members of the class, which 
loon materialized in the publication of the 
" Minutes of '96." This little paper had no 
literar}' aspirations whatever, but it accom- 



plished to a certain degree its purpose, which 
was to revive class spirit, and to promote sym- 
pathy and fellowship among us. Do we regret 
to say that our ' ' Minutes ' ' were but transi- 
ent, — fleeting? That may be, but in the dis- 
continuance of this interesting publication, as 
well as in other respects, we have shown our 
generosity and thoughtfulness toward our fel- 
low beings. Yet we have missed, .since then 
the unceremonious characteristics of certain 
authoritative powers, — the originality of their 
remarks, with the formality of parliamentarj' 
rules conveniently cast aside ! 

The general routine of the Senior year has 
been varied but little. The minds of all seem 
to have turned into more serious channels, as 
the dignit}^ of our position has dawned upon 
us. As we look back over this year and those 
preceding, it is not with a feeling of pleasure 
alone. Shadows have mingled with the sun- 
light of our past, — shadows of death. But the 
bitterness of the loss of these dear friends 
whom we have missed so much, is .sweetened 
by the memory of the purity and beauty of 
their natures. And this thought will ever 
live in the hearts of their school companions. 

To surmise concerning the future of our 
class, is not the duty of the historian, but in 
the years to come, may we ever hold in tender 
recollection this period in our lives, and cling 
with firm tenacity to the elevating principles 
learned while members of the Class of '96 ! 
Florence G. Atkins, 

Cla,ss Historian. 

My Dear Friend : — When I read of your 
appointment to the chair of foreign langvmges 
in Vassar College, I feared to address 
such a noted per.sonage. But then I thought 
of my to write on this date and .so, be- 
lieving you to be the same modest Mabel of 
old, in spite of the alphabet at the end of your 
name, I send this letter to you. 

How time flies ! Yet, I can remember dis- 
tinctly two years ago, our last and best year in 
High School. Didn't we have good times 

then ? By the way, I have been looking up 
.some of our old .school-mates who were mem- 
bers of that wonderful class of '96. 

I suppose you have noticed reports of Robert 
Hobbs's great campaign speeches. It is to him 
that woman owes her political privileges, to- 
<la.y. He rose suddenly to fame and was con- 
sidered for the presidential candidac3^ A com- 
mittee in the convention introduced a petition 
and subscribed 10 cents each to have Mr. 
Hobbs's hair cut. Mr. Hobbs refused good- 
naturedly but firmly, and since then he has 
sunk into oblivion — retired on a farm, I have 
heard, and as he loves potatoes, passers-by 
hear him mutter : — 

" Of all sad words of tongue or pen, 
The saddest are these, ' It might have been.' " 

I hadn't heard of Elizabeth for a 
long time until the other day, as I was walk- 
ing along Fort Wayne avenue, I heard a pecu- 
liar voice issuing from a small .shop. I stepped to 
the door and there I saw Elizabeth, 
and all, sitting flat on the floor, with an um- 
brella frame in one hand and numerous other 
frames lying about her, while .she mournfully 
quoted : — 

" O terque quaterque l)eati," etc., 
with lines from Homer, Milton, and Shakes- 
peare. My eyes dimmed with tears at the sight 
but I .stopped and questioned her. She had 
graduated at Depauw with honors, but had be- 
come so ab.soi'bed in the mechanism of her um- 
brella which closed when a button is pres.sed, 
that .she determined to invent one which would 
open by the .same process. She is now en- 
gaged in this laudable undertaking. 

Ethel Cleland is our niLssionarj', and is teach- 
ing the little Africans to be prompt in all things, 
for to this she says .she owes her .success in life. 
Luella McEain is a new woman, and is preach- 
ing in one of the fa.shionable churches. Only 
by a mi.schievous glance of the eye, now and 
then, would one ever recognize the frivolous 
Louise of old. Lucia Holliday, for a longtime 
could not decide whether to follow the exam- 
ple of Luella or Ethel, or to get married. vShe 



finally adopted the latter course, and like the 
good girl in the story book, ' ' lived happily 
ever afterward." 

James McGee has invented a brain- saving 
machine. It consists of a phonograph which 
reproduces an entire year's Greek recitations. 
It presents and answers correctly all the ques- 
tions a professor could possibly ask; it also 
translates and scans all of the Iliad, besides 
giving the principal parts of each heart-rending 
Greek verb. James now parades the streets 
with an everlasting smile upon his countenance, 
and wherever he goes, college students with 
grateful hearts greet him with enthusiastic 

Theresa Pierce married a prominent man 
and is well known in literary circles, but her 
fame has spread abroad by her work in another 
line. Do }^ou remember what remarkable car- 
icatures she used to make, imagining the ap- 
pearance of our schoolmates as babies ? Puck 
has secured her .services at a generous sum to 
make caricatures of prominent men, and thus 
she has won her fame and Puck subscribers. 

Edith Keay is a public benefactor. She fell 
heir to a large fortune, but instead of expend- 
ing it on herself, she bought and reconstructed 
the Park Theatre in the form of the ancient 
Greek stage, and now the dramas of Aeschylus, 
Sophocles, and Euripides are daily performed 
before a wondering populace. 

Luc}^ Dickson tried teaching for a while but 
found it too tame, and now draws her income 
for writing satire and space poetry in the local 

Carrie Lauter has married a good man, as 
generous as herself. When you go to call on 
her, you dare not admire anything greatly or it 
will be presented to you immediatelj'. Carrie 
graduated at Smith, took a degree at Chicago, 
and is quite a marvel in mathematics. 

Leo Rappaport has become a great legislator 
and his laws against children's labor has done 
much for the cause of humanity. His speeches 
are characterized more by their logic than their 
eloquence. He is considered a fine-looking 

man, and I understand young ladies are fond 
of sketching his profile while he speaks. 

Deane Kendall has become a .second Patti. 
The entire population turned out to hear her 
during the last May Festival. 

Virginia Sale has established an information 
bureau in prominent rooms down town. Here 
one may learn anything and everything, almost. 
This novel device has saved citizens from both- 
ering one another, to a surprising degree. 

One of the most noted evangelists the world 
has ever known visited this city recently. I 
went with a friend of mine to hear him. He 
moved his audience to tears; strong men wept 
over their sins, and prayed to be like the rev- 
erend being before them. His language was 
like a flower garden, and quotations flowed 
from his lips. Marvelling, I turned to my 
friend to inquire the.evangelist's name. My 
companion stared at me as though I were to- 
tally depraved, and cried : " Why, Baker, the 
great F. Tarkington Baker ! " 

Grace Cunningham has shaken the roof of 
many opera houses by the power of her voice, 
and storms of applause have followed her. But 
one night she was singing that old, old, song, 
''After the Ball." In the midst of it, she 
stopped and could go no further. The}' looked 
in the opposite box and found that her ' ' Sven- 
gali ■ ' was dead. 

Edna Horwitz, as kind-hearted as ever, has 
founded a hospital for demented poets. In the 
spring, .she has many patients, but by judicious 
treatment, many leave to come in the fall. 

Florence Atkins has excited dramatic cir- 
cles by her sympathetic and realistic concep- 
tion of the character of Portia. The other 
night, her company played here, and at the 
close of the second act, she was presented with 
a beautiful bouquet tied with green ribbon 
clasped with "'96" pin. The .sight of 
the pin aroused such emotions that she was 
.barely able to proceed with the play. 

Emma Clintbn did not go to college after 
she graduated, but went to spend a few years 
in the country. She enjoyed romping over 



the hills and milking cows so much that after 
she did graduate from college she became a 
farmer's wife, and everybody says she can 
keep a better house because she knows how to 
read Virgil. 

Fred Kendall has amassed a large fortune 
by means of his business ability and is now en- 
gaged in compiling a universal language. He 
has sent missionaries to every known country, 
and he believes that in a few years he wall 
have the entire world, and possibly the 
planets upon a speaking basis. College stu- 
dents will then have no further need of French, 
German, Italian, and Spanish. 

Blanche Noel and Florence Martin were 
about to become prominent actors in a double 
wedding, when they experienced a change of 
heart and have since become nuns. 

Walter Butler has achieved success as a 
lawj'er but he received no greater pleasure 
from his first real legal victory than from his 
victor)^ ten years ago in the mock trial at 

Edgar Taylor and Irvin Elder did not go 
into partner.ship in the undertaking bussness 
as their sober mien prophesied thej' would, but 

are traveling as end and middle man in a min- 
strel show. 

I need hardly say that Judson Moschell 
holds the chair of Dead Languages in the Indi- 
anapolis Univer.sity. 

Lillian Gibbs has married well. Her intel- 
ligent servant girl informed me when I called 
that no inmate of the house is permitted to 
flatten his a's or roll his r's. 

The old times have come back to me very 
vividly lately; and, last Saturday being the 
first of the month, I remembered our Saturday 
calls on Mrs. Hufford, and found myself al- 
most by instinct going to her I found 
both Mr. and Mrs. Hufford at home; they do 
not seem a day older; those whose hearts are 
young never grow old, j'ou know. We sat 
talking over the pleasant times together until 
the darkness descended and then I departed re- 

If you. hear an}' news of our old school 
mates, I should be glad to know it as their in- 
terests are mine. 

Wishing that we might go hand in hand 
over these happy days again, I close this 
lengthy epistle. Your friend, 

Mamie Bass, Prophet, June '96. 

Hlumni department. 

XAST October, Miss Ruby Smith, of '91, 
went to Paris, France, and put herself 
under the tuition of a superior musical in- 
structor, who encourages her to hope that with 
time and patient practice, she may sing suc- 
cessfully in Italian opera. She sends the Aji- 
nual the following description of the animated 
scenes of the " Fete de Boeuf-Gras," as given, 
in Paris at the beginning of the lenten season. 

The fete commenced at midnight of Satur- 
day with a masked ball given in the " Grand 

At a quarter of twelve o'clock, six trump- 
eters appeared on the balcony and gave what 
is known as the " call to arms," which lasted, 
perhaps, two minutes : then, just as all the 
clocks in the churches near by and on the rail- 
way station, Gare St JLazarc, sounded out 
twelve sonorous peals, twelve other trumpeters, 
dressed in ancient court costume, appeared on 
the grand balcony and gave the "Fanfare." 
To one who has never heard it, its beaut}^ can 
not be imagined, and just as the last echo 
floated out over Place de 1' Opera, our ears 
were greeted with the first strains of the or- 
chestra, beginning the music for the ball. 

As we returned home, we were greeted on 
all sides with the exclamation, " l/ook ! there 
are some Americans," which remark was al- 
ways followed b}^ a shower of confetti. ' ' Con- 
fetti," in France, is various colored papers, cut 
into small disks about a quarter of an inch in 
diameter. In former times, the}' were a soft, 
sweet-meat, which was thrown at carnival 
times ; but of late 3'ears, the law allows no- 
thing but these small pieces of paper to be 
used. One has no idea how much like a burst 
of sunshine or rainbow these tiny things, as 
they fly through the air, look, — as though they 
had life. Another sort of paper was wound 
like bolts of ribbon and as you threw it, it 

unwound and coiled and recoiled over some 
object. As many of these " serpentins," as 
they were called, were thrown from balconies 
and windows, the trees were decorated with a 
multi-colored foliage. 

On Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, was given 
an allegorical parade. In the parade, were also 
floats representing the various industries. The 
most beautiful of all was the float representing 

After the parade liad passed, the people came 
out from their homes and down from their 
points of observation, all joining in the crowd 
that filled the boulevard. In looking down on 
'the throng it was impossible to realize where 
was the street or where the sidewalk. 

The la,st day tiny dusters of paper appeared, 
and the people bought them as eagerl}' as the 
confetti or serpentins. One person would pass, 
simply covering you with confetti; and, in a 
few moments, another would come bj' with a 
duster and brush it all off. Age was entirely 
lost sight of, and men, women, and children 
entered into the spirit of it so that it was thor- 
oiighly enjoyable, except after you returned 
home and tried to get the ' ' confetti ' ' from 
your clothes. Although the fete is now some- 
time past, we are still finding " confetti." 

One of the interesting things to us was on 
Tuesday, after the parade, when our ears were 
greeted with an American song. Coming down 
the boulevard was a party of American students 
singing American songs and apparently enjoy- 
ing the fete as much as anyone else. 

We felt, after hearing a song in our mother 
tongue, that, while we were in a countrj^ beau- 
tiful to look at and interesting in every way, 
there is no country like ours, and we should all 
be glad to stand again under the "stars and 
stripes. ' ' 




rare, frail rose, that with a silent grace 
Gladdens my weary eyes with your sweet face, 
Reveal to me this lovely even hour 

What makes your life a blessing and a power ? 

1 have been striving, tho' it oft seems vain 
To learn the secret of the truest gain. 
How do you keep your beauty pure and fair 
In this dark world of sorrow and of care ? 

" Dear child," the flower whispered, " I will tell 
My secret, since yovi trust and love me well; 
I never strive, but simply let His life 
Reveal itself in me, — no need for strife." 

At first, a gleam of hope my fears dispelled, 
But soon again my doubting heart rebelled; 
" Your life," I said, " is fair and sweet to-day 
Because no sorrows lie across your way." 

But wandering on, I met a laughing brook, 
Chasing its waters thro' a shady nook; 
And then I asked the secret of its life. 
And whether here there was a cause for strife. 

But the brook answered : " 'Tis the stones, my dear, 
That lend a beauty to m}' waters clear;" 
Then to my heart the lesson was made plain. 
How by submission we alone may gain; 

So when God sends me peace and happj' days. 
Then let my grateful heart give Him the praise ; 
But if He .sorrow sends, and bitterness. 
Then teach me how to make that sorrow bless. 

— Mary E. Ingraham, '91. 

^ff'N The Nation of April 23, is published a 
II letter concerning ' ' The New Degrees at 
Oxford Universit}', England," written by Wil- 
bur C. Abbott (H. S. '86). Mr. Abbott is 
now a resident graduate student at Oxford, he 
having been admitted to that universitj- on a 
traveling fellow.ship which was granted him by 
Cornell University — the White Fellowship in 
History. He is studjdng for the degree of 
Bachelor of Eetters. Heretofore, no one not a 
regular graduate of Oxford could study for ad- 
vanced degrees there, but the staid English 
University has now opened its courses of study 
to graduates of other institutions. Mr. Abbott 
is one of the first Americans to take up resi- 
dence as a graduate'student at Oxford. 


Since you have so kindh' asked me to write 
an article on "Va.ssar," I have decided to send 
you an informal open letter in regard to my 
life here. 

As most of our friends know. Miss Anne E. 
Douglas and myself entered Vas.sar College in 
the autumn of '92, having graduated from the 
Indianapolis High School in the previous June. 

As we stepped inside the lodge gate for the 
first time we found, what seemed to us, an 
earthly paradise. Well-kept lawns and great 
evergreens with their deep rich colors enhanced 
the beauty of the mas.sive building which tow- 
ered above us, beautiful in its many- 
tinted mantle of Virginia creeper. 

Very soon after our arrival, we began explor- 
ing the two hundred and eleven acres which 
belong to the college and also enjoying rowing 
on the lake, which is very charming, with the 
many trees overhanging its waters. Mean- 
while we were making friends with our own 
classmates and also with the upper classmen, 
who always do all in their power to make fresh- 
men as happy as possible. 

I will not speak of the studies nor of the 
woes of the first few weeks of a college woman's 
life, but confine mj^self to the social events of 
our collegiate j'ear. 

Earlj' in October, comes an invitation to the 
Y. W. C. A. reception, which is soon followed 
by one to the party given by the Sophomores 
to the new students. This latter event is a 
most splendid affair in all respects. 

Time speeds on till, Tliank,sgiving over, we 
experience our first "Phil" day. This is the 
anniversary of the founding of the Philalethean 
Society — the only dramatic society in college. 
Guests are invited from abroad, and Vassar is 
indeed in festive array ! 

After the Christmas vacation, comes a period 
of three weeks of "judicious reviewing" be- 
fore examinations, but very soon after the 
opening of the new semester the Sophomores 
give their "play," an original farce, in which 



are many local ' ' grinds ' ' and much fun- 

On Washington's Birthdaj', we have a colon- 
ial ball in the gymnasium, and the whole col- 
lege joins in having the merriest time. The 
girls appear in quaint gowns and gracefully 
dance the old-fashioned minuets. 

Soon after the spring vacation, comes the cel- 
ebration of Founder's Da^^ Appropriate ex- 
ercises take place during the daytime, and in 
the evening is the second reception of the j'car, 
when our friends are cordially welcome. 

A few more weeks of study pass and then 
comes Class Day and Commencement, which 
are both unique and charming. So ends the 

I have given only the main social events, not 
mentioning the lectures and concerts, the plays 
in Philalethean Hall and the many ' ' spreads ' ' 
in the rooms of different girls. 

Lest anyone should make the great mistake 
of believing that we do not study at Vassar, 
let me say that the standard here is very high, 
ranking next to Bryn Mawr in excellence. 
Over one hundred and thirty courses in vari- 
ous subjects are open to the students, and 
good, conscientious work is expected. 

My college days are now almost over. As I 
review my life here, and think of the man}- 
noble young women I have learned to know, of 
the talented professors and instructors under 
whom I have had the good fortune to be a 
student, I am sincereh' glad that I canle to 
Vassar. So, with my cheers for I. H. S., I 
must mingle three good, rousing ones for my 
Alma Mater, or dear old V. C. 

Blanche Chloe Grant, '92. 


Whatever the weather ma}' be. 

It's the song ye sing, an' the smile ye wear 

That's a-makin' the sunshine everywhere. 


Down thro' the air he floated lazily, — 
A circling butterfly with spotted wings. 
The sunshine followed, as he airily 
Sped on and on with dainty flutterings. 
A brown bee stopped him, in her constant toil, 
Of gathering honey from each fragrant flower; 
" Why do you spend your day in idleness, 
Instead of working, laboring every hour? " 
The butter fl}' answered gay, — 

" Dance while you may. 

Life lasts but a day. 

And still he drifted onward drowsily, 
Now lighting on a lily pale and tall ; 
Now motionless upon the heavy air, — 
Now delicately poised on sunlit wall. 
A busy ant was coming down the path, 
She paused and spoke — her accents were severe : 
" Sir Idleness, why do }'Ou waste your time ? 
All creatures on the earth should labor here." 
The butterfly's laugh was gay, — 
"Dance while you may. 
Life lasts but a day. 
* * * * -X- * * -X- 

The morning air was fresh, the dew was thick. 
The birds were twitt'ring brightly in the trees. 
Ah, mournful sight ! upon the sparkling grass. 
With folded wings, unswayed by passing breeze, 
Lay dead a gorgeous-colored butterfly. 
The ant said to her friend the humming-bee. 
As they were going on their toilsome waj', 
" Poor butterfly ! his day is done, I see." 
But still do idlers say, — 

" Dance while you may. 

Life lasts but a day, 

— Jessie Lanier Christian, '93. 

Look forward ! persevering to the last ; 
From well to better, daily self-surpast. 


HMONG the present High School Facitlty 
are three graduates of this school — 
Miss I^aura Donnan, '70 ; Miss May Allerdice, 
'88, and Miss Lucia Ray, '88. During the 
closing six weeks of the year. Miss Margaret 
Smith, '87, has been substituting in the place 
of a teacher who resigned. All these have, 
since their graduation from the High School, 
completed a college course of study. 

The science departments each have graduates 
of the High School as assistants. 




From out the middle of her moony bower, 
Diana looked at me. I saw her hair 
Gleam golden in the midnight's purple air ; 
Her snowy shoulders, like an opening flower. 
Shone thro' the fleecy clouds ; there fell a power 
From heaven upon me ; swift she aimed fair 
With that soft-curving bow that she doth bear; 
The strong shaft flew, the wan stars in a shower 
Fell frighted. la ! la ! from yonder wood 
The white stag wounded flies ; the swift nymphs speed 

Adown the slope, dread Dian at their head. 
Across the lawn full many a panting rood ; 
He falls a-dying 'mid the river reed. 

— la ! la ! the old gods are not dead ! 
— George Archer Ferguson, '94. 

H PAMPHLET containing a thesis in Ger- 
man has just been received from Berlin; 
it bears the title ' ' Altababylonische Massse und 
Gewichte," (which is, being interpreted, a 
treatise upon ' ' Ancient Babylonian Weights 
and Measures," ) von Dr. George Reisner. 

The High School Annual of 1896 con- 
tained an account of Mr. Ressner's (H. S. '85 ) 
work at Harvard and where he want abroad 
also on a traveling fellow'ship given him by 
Harvard College. This thesis is the evidence 
of his success in winning a degree at the Ger- 
man University. 

■y^ HE first class to graduate from the Indi- 
\m anpolis-High School was the class of '69. 
Three 3^ears afterwards, Mr. Merrick Vinton's 
home, on North Meridian street, was thrown 
open to the graduates for the first alumni 
meeting. The gathering was verj' informal. 
There was no literary program and no danc- 
ing, yet every one heartily enjoyed the 
fridnely social evening, out under the trees 
and stars. This was the beginning of the High 
School Alumni Association, which, as an or- 
ganization, lasted with varying success for ten 
years. In 1872 it disappeared, to revive in 
1887 as the High School Association. The 
present organization admits to membership not 
only graduates, but also those who were mem- 
bers of the school fifteen years before any an- 

nual meeting, and it has as .secretary the 
principal of the High School, and as treasurer 
the principal of the Industrial Training 
School. The association celebrates its ninth 
anniversary on the 12th of June in High 
School Hall. 


mo one can deny that M. Paderewski is 
as much a fad as the ' ' new woman, ' ' 
or golfing, or bicycling. You must attend all 
his recitals, play his latest nocturnes, know all 
that is possible, and much that is not probable, 
about his private life — when and on what he 
dines, the choice of his tie, the cut of his hair, 
if it ever is cut — till it is to be feared that with 
the aid of some unknown rays, we may soon 
see the workings of his brain. 

Nevertheless, let us congratulate the ' ' pub- 
lic ' ' this time on the choice of the object for 
enthusiasm; for although the "ohs!" and 
"how dears!" of some of the fair worshipers 
are very amusing, still the ' ' greatest pianist 
since Rubenstein ' ' inspires every musician 
with unbounded admiration. 

The farewell recital of M. Paderewski in 
New York gave abundant opportunity to see 
the full strength of his craze. The weather 
was suddenly suffocatingly warm ; still the 
enthusiasm did not decrease as the heat in- 
creased, but at times registered many degrees 
above the thermometer. 

All during the week, expressions of sympa- 
thy for M. Paderewski, on account of the heat, 
were very common, some being turned to 
rather tottering jokes. 

" Poor Paderewski ! " some one would say. 
" Just wait, you'll surely not call him ' poor ' 
after the concert." Two hundred thousand 
dollars does seem quite a snug sum to carry 
away from one American tour. 

As this was M. Paderewski' s last recital, the 
spacious Carnegie hall was crowded from boxes 
to top gallery, while standing behind the chairs 
in dejected, down-cast rows, were the " fool- 



ish virgins, ' ' who had not engaged seats three 
weeks bafore. 

Every one seemed expectant — impatient. 
Here, gesticulating nervously, were two of 
New York's most noted piano teachers ; there, 
a row of all-powerful musical critics, assuming 
an air of great indifference ; to the left was a 
talented young pupil of Eeschetizky, armed 
with music and pencil ; behind her a bushy- 
headed violinist of the conservatory, while ev- 
erywhere was the fair Paderewski worshipper, 
with her portly, aristocratic, but equally inter- 
ested mamma. 

After some time of restless waiting, the im- 
patience took the form of sharp claps, and M. 
Paderewski soon appeared. 

It is not necessary to tell how he played the 
programme of Bach, Beethoven, Schumann, 
Liszt, etc., for every one knows his genius. 
Still do not fancy that because he is Ignace J. 
Paderewski, he has a life of downj^ ease, free 
from the sharp stings of unfavorable criticism, 
for there are severe judges among the many 
pianists here. 

It is as one said — " We think how this was 
one of Rosenthal's best pieces, and how well 
Joseffy could play those delicatissimo passages, 
and how so-and-so brought out the octaves, 
and then added to all this perfection. We 
would like a little of our own interpretation — 
so, you see — " and he shrugs his shoulders. 

After Paderewski 's own nocturne, a mon- 
strous laurel wreath was handed him. He 
held it a minute, seemed not to know what to 
do with it, then walked behind the piano and 
dropped it on the floor. A smile flitted over 
the faces of the audience. 

The last number was the Fantasia, on themes 
from A Midsummer Night's Dream; and 
as he began the popular wedding march, a sigh 
echoed around us. We turned in time to see 
the old lady behind us wipe her eyes, and then 
we were sorry that we had looked so crossly at 
her for talking of his nimble fingers, and 
spring bonnets during the Rapillous. 

At the conclusion of the programme, two 
more wreaths were presented him. He slowly 
dropped one, and then the other, upon the 
floor, making a heap of laurel crowns. The 
audience laughed heartily. 

The enthusiasts were really unmerciful, 
for after a programme of two and a half hours, 
he was forced to add three extra numbers. 

The scene at the last was one for an artist. 
The large, brightly-illuminated stage, with the 
light-haired pianist seated at a beautiful, black 
Steinway, both in vivid relief against a light, 
neutral background, while in the semi-dark- 
ness below, was the one black mass of people. 

L. B. Smith, '95. 

CV^ CV^ Q\^ CV^ 

The bicycle fever's the craze of the hour; 

I shiidder to think of its terrible power; 

How many poor souls in its clutches are bound ! 

All other thoughts in this madness are drowned. 

At the morning's first flashes thej^'re up and are riding, 

Away o'er the country they're rapidly gliding; 

In spite of the dust, and the heat, and the sun, 

It's often they venture a twenty -mile " run ; " 

Some people of sixty, and indeed even older, — 

I declare they seem to grow bolder and bolder ; 

Old ladies, young ones, children of five. 

In bloomers, and sweaters, and dirt seem to thrive — 

Oh, dear ! how alarining ! how sad! how distressing ! ! 

Their clothes are in tatters, their faces are blistering, 

And still they cry, with each laboring breath, 

" Give me a bicycle, or give me death." 

— Agnes Ketcham, '96. 



President, H. Churchman. 
Secretary, E. Fi.ETCHER. 
Treasurer, M. Shear. 

board of director.s. 

Prof. Hufford. 
Prof. Trf;nt. 
Prof. Higdon. 
A. Hugh Bryan. 
F. T. Baker. 
O. MoThershead. 

♦fFT seemed, for a while, that all the interest 
II in athletics had suddenly left the school, 
but the coals .still .smouldered in the breasts of 
some ardent athletes and the High School 
Athletic A.s.sociation was at last revived. The 
base ball sea,son and the approach of the annual 
field day both demanded it, and, with the aid of 
the faculty, a sufficient number was obtained to 
proceed with the elections and plans for the 
year. Appropriations for suits, bats, masks 
and balls were made for the ball team. Par- 
ticular attention was given to the High School 
Bicycle Club, and an invitation was extended 
to them and accepted to join the association in 
maturing plans for the third field day. 

The Bicycle Club has assumed pro- 
portions, and under its supervision .several runs 
have been made. The first benefit derived by 
its members was the constritction of a conveni- 
ent and suitable place for housing their wheels 
during school hours. The basement of the 

building is now allowed the riders, and thirty 
or forty wheels remain there during all hours 
of the day. 

The fox and hound races, inaugurated and 
managed b}^ A. Hugh Bryan, found many de- 
votees early in the fall. The coiirse was usu- 
ally long and across fields, requiring steady 
work and strong limbs, besides a knowledge of 
the countrj^ Parmelee, Hobbs and Tiicker 
gained great renown as foxes, and led the 
hounds many a merry chase in the neighbor- 
hood of the Fair Grounds. 

F. T. B. 

FIELD DAY, '95. 

In all the twenty events of last year's field 
day, the best results expected were obtained 
and formidable records made for the ensuing 
years. The Fair Grounds were rented for the 
occurrence, and before a large crowd, not only 
of students, _but of interested citizens, the races 



were run, the shots put and the jumping done. 
The announcement of the victor's name awak- 
ened a thunder of applause, and more than one 
heart beat fast with pride that day as they 
noticed the smihng faces looking down upon 


Time, lO i-2 Seconds. 

1. Schliecher. 

2. Somerville. 

3. Baker. 


Time, g minutes, 20 seconds. 

1. Hobbs. 

2. Holmes. 

3. Smith. 


Distance, 8i feet^ 9 inches. 

1. Schleicher. 

2. Buchtel. 

3. Good. 


Distance, 35 feet, 10 inches. 

1 . Schleicher. 

2. Buchtel. 

3. Winter. 


Titne, 58 seconds. 

1. Baker. 

2. Downey. 
3- Winter. 


Distance, ig feet, 4 inches. 

1 . Baker. 

2. Buchtel. 

3. Douglass. 


Height, 5 feet, 3-4 inch. 

1. Mavity. 

2. Conduitt. 

3. Mothershead. 


Time, 20 seconds. 

1 . Schleicher. 

2. Tucker. 

3. Baker. 

one;-mii,e run. 
Time, 5 m.inutes, j7 seconds. 

1. Downey. 

2. Rinehart. 

3. Winter. 


Distance, 322 feet. 

1. Rinehart. 

2. Schleicher. 

3. Baker. 


Tim,e, 5:0g i-j. 

1. David. 

2. Craig. 

3. Good. 


Height, 4 feet, j inches. 
1. Mavity. 




Tim,e, i minute, Ig seconds. 

1. David. 

2. Craig. 

3. Holmes. 


Time, 24 seconds. 

1 . Schleicher. 

2. Somerville. 

3. Mothershead. 


Tim,e, 2 tninutes. So seconds 

1. David. 

2. Good. 

3. Craig. . 

F. T. B. 



FIELD DAY. '96. 

High School field day has been announced 
as June 6th. The merchants of the city have 
been free in donating the prizes for the victors 
in the various events, and if glory be not a 
sufficient stimulus for High School brawn and 
muscle, the array of laurels should at least 
arouse the latent ambition of our athletes. It 
is not safe to make any forecasts for the day, 
but it covers all points to say that much un- 
known ability will make itself manifest. The 
records of last year were close upon the collegi- 
ate records, and it will require strong and per- 
sistent training to break them. With Schleicher, 
Somerville and Baker gone, the dark-horses 
will have a light field to traverse OA^er the hun- 
dred yards' course. Putting the shot, jumping 
and hurdling will develop new men, and the 
bicycle races will demonstrate that High School 
students can make as fast time upon the wheel 
as was made last year by Tommy David and 

No one who considers himself capable should 
hesitate to enter an event. Careful training 
will work wonders, and it is not always the 
largest men who are the most active. Even 
the benefit to be derived should be a great 
stimulus to individual work, and though all 
cannot win prizes and be crowned with the 
wreath of victory, yet there is a balm for the 
wounded pride of the defeated, for 
"The rapture of pursuing 
Is the prize the vanquished gain." 

F. T. B. 


Though for several years the plea has gone 
forth that a gymnasium was needed, the School 
Board has been deaf to every entreaty. The 
attic, large and spacious, could, at a slight cost, 
be fitted up in the best manner with necessary 
apparatus for phj^sical expansion. The whole 
system could be conveniently arranged so that 
gymnastic exercise would not interfere with 

classes nor studying. Such an addition is ab- 
solutely needed, and no question of its appro- 
priateness could ever arise. 


Downey, r. e. 
Kittenbach, r. t. 
Jordan, r. g. 
R. vSmith, c. 
Curtis, 1. g. 


Schleicher, 1. t. 
Sickler, 1. e. 
HoUiday, r. h. b. 
' Hall, 1. h. b. 
Boaz, f. b. 
Mothersliead, f. b. 

At the beginning of the sea.son the prospects 
were bright for a better team than that of the 
preceding year, when we gained the State In- 
ter-scholastic championship. 

It was feared that the of Parker and 
Foxworthy would weaken the line, but their 
places were ably filled and the line materially 
strengthened at other points. Back of the line 
we were fully as strong as was the '94 team. 
HoUiday and Hall were still with us, and Boaz, 
at full back, if not equalling Rinehart at kick- 
ing, was fully as good at line bucking. 

With such an eleven, naturally great things 
were expected, and the first game was pla^'ed 
against Dean Bros. , and won by a .score of 30 to 
o. Even with such a winning team, the enthusi 
asm in the school was very slack, and owing 
to the pettj- jealousies of disappointed candi- 
dates for the captaincy, it was difficult for the 
club to prosper. So just at the commencement 
of what was sure to have been a succesful 
season, the eleven was compelled to disband. 

We hope that next year all will combine in 
making the team of '96 the most successful 
that High School has ever put upon the 
■ ' gridiron. ' ' 

Owen M. Mothershead. 


The base ball team has met with excellent 
success this year, in .spite of an unusual 



amount of bad luck. Rinehart, our crack 
pitcher, was unable to play in but three of the 
nine games pla^'ed, and sprained backs and 
broken fingers conspired largely to our defeats. 
At the first of the season but little encourage- 
ment was felt, but some splendid talent saw 
developed and then progress was rapid. A 
subscription was started, and uniforms were 
purchased. R. Newhall was elected captain 
and O. M. Mothershead manager. The first 
game was with the Indianapolis Academy, 
whom we defeated by 'a score of 15 to 13. We 
secured six victories out of nine games played. 
The closest game was with a team composed 
principally^ of Industrial Training School plaj-- 
ers. The I H. S. boj's made a batting rally 
in the ninth inning that overcame a lead of 
eight runs and won the game by a score of 14 

to 13. The team's victory over Butler is one 
of which we are justly proud, as it is the first 
time the High School team ever defeated the 
above college on the diamond. We had but 
little hopes, as Crosby, their famous pitcher, 
the man who held Wabash down to seven hits, 
was placed in the box. We had no trouble 
with his famous inshoots however, and easily 
won, 16 to 8. Our outfield is undoubtedly the 
best among the amateur teams of the city, and 
otherwise the team is nothing to be ashamed 
of. The players and their positions : 


Rinehart, p. 

R. Bosler, 3 b. 


Churchman, p. 

R. Newhall, s. s. (capt.) 


Azbill, c. 

F. Kelley, r. f. 


Douglas, 1 b. 

M. Talbot, c. f. 

M. Mothershead, 

•2 b. 

D. Morris, 1. f. 

Roberts Newhai^i,, '97, Captain. 

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Long lengths. 

4 Buttons, all prices, 50 cents and up. 

"Uucker's ^lOPC Store 

10 Cast llJashinffton Street. 

Wm. B, Burford, Printer, lndianapou» 




Branch Houses: Memphis, Tenn., RRinneapolis, IVIinn., Chattanooga, Tenn. 


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Founded by the late Chauncey Rose, 



Offers a good education based on Mathematics, Modern Lang;uages, Physical Sciences and 
Drawing, with thorough Instruction in the principles and practice of 



Carl Leo Mees, Ph. D., President and Professor of Physics. Frank Wagner, M. S,, Associate Professor of Steam and Elec- 

.] AMES A. WiCKERSHAM, A. M., Professor of Languages. trie Engineering. 

WlLLiA\f A. NoYES, Ph. D., Professor of Chemistry. Edwin Place, M.M. E.. Instructor in Physical and Engineer- 

Malvehd a. Howe, C. E., Professor of Civil Engineering. ing Laboratories. 

Thomas Gray, Ph. D., Director of Dynamic Engineering De- Robert L. McCormick, B. S., Instructor in Mathematics. 

partment. J. D. Harper, B. S., Instructor in Civil Engineering. 

Arthur S. Hathaway, B. S., Professor of Mathematics. Orange E. McMbans, B. S., Instructor in Drawing. 

Arthur Kendrick, A. M., Associate Professor of Physics. William E. Burk, B. S., Instructor in Chemistry. 

John B. Peddle, A. M., Associate Professor of Machine Draw- Albert A. Faurot, A. M., Instructor in Languages. 

ing and Designs. 

Albert A. Faurot, Librarian. J. F. W. Harris, Superintendent Machine Shop. 

0. E. McMeans, Instructor in Gymnasium. William P. Smith, Superintendent Wood Shop. 

Catalogues and circulars sent on application. Address C. H. MEES, President. 





Fofty-Second Annual Session opens . . . 


High School credits granted on certificate of Principal. 

The aim of this department of the University is to cover the field 
of general college study in the ancient and the modern languages and 
literatures, and in history, philosophy and science. To this end the 
Department maintains a full corps of competent instructors, and offers 
every facility for thorough college work. 

Modern methods, improved apparatus, well-equipped laboratories, 
library, reading-room, gymnasium, etc., etc. 

Irvington, the seat of the College, combines the quiet and retire- 
ment of the country with the advantages and opportunities of the city. 

Summer School Session begins Monday, June 28th. 

Call on, or address 


Indiana Law School 


University of Indianapolis. 


BYRON K. ELLIOTT, President. 

Course of two years. 

School year begins , on Tuesday, October 5th, and 
ends on last Wednesday in May. 

Corps of lecturers numbers twenty-four. 

Diploma admits to bar of United States and State 

For announcement, catalogue, etc., address the 




Department of Medicine of the University of Indianapolis. 

This institution has just completed its twenty-seventh annual session. Commencement occurring 
April I, 1897. The year just passed has been, all things considered, the most prosperous and satis- 
factory in the history of the College, in general interest and the attention paid to instruction on the 
part of teachers and students alike, it excels any past session. 

Continued experience shows the fitness of the new building occupied for the past two sessions, 
on the corner of Market Street and Senate Avenue North, and its adaptation to the constantly increas- 
ing requirements of advanced education. There were in attendance during the last session graduates 
from nearly every Literary and Normal School in the State. In the future, as heretofore, students 
completing pre-medical courses in the various colleges will be granted advanced standing, according 
to the rules of the Association of American Medical Colleges. Women are admitted to this school 
on the same terms as men, and their attendance will be rendered as pleasant as possible. 

Notwithstanding the establishment of a compulsory four years' course, and the prevailing finan- 
cial stringency, the attendance for the past year did not fall below the usual standard. This is 
regarded as very encouraging, and it is believed that with the improvement now taking place in the 
business of the country the class will continue to increase in the same ratio as has been shown hitherto. 

The twenty-eighth session will begin on the 28th of September, 1897. The new catalogue will 
be issued about June i. For all information concerning catalogues, rates of tuition, course of study, 
etc., address the Dean, 


10ey2 E. Ne^w York Street, 

Indianai^olis, Ind. 

'^uvdwe Muvoevsvt^ 


Is an institution characterized by its thorough 
work and the combination of theory and practice 
in its courses ; noteworthy for its extensive 
laboratories for Mechanical, Civil and Electrical 
Engineering, Chemistry, Biology and Pharmacy. 


Tlie institution embraces six speclul schools, as follows: 
I. A School of Mechakical ENGiNEERiNfi. 

(a) Shop Practice. (</) Hydraulic Plngineering. 

ib) Machine Design. {/') Steam Engineering. 

(c) Transmission of Power. 
Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Mechanical Em/ineering. 

\ School of Civil Engineering. 
Including : 

(a) Shop Practice. {<>) Hydraulic Engineering. 

{b) Bridge Engineering. (e) Sanitar>' Engineering. 

(e) Railroad Engineering. (/') Architectural Engineering. 
Leading to the L^egree of Bachelor of Civil Enijineering. 

A School of Elecikical Engineering. 

(a) Shojj Practice. ((/) Dynamo Construction. 

(h) Machine Design. (e) Installation and Managpinent of Electric 

(f) Electrical Engineering. Railwa}' and Lighting Plants. 
Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Mechanical EiujineerirKj. 

A School of Agriculture. 




Including : 

(«) Science and Practice of 

(6) Horticulture. 
Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Science 

A School of Science. 

(a) Biology. 

(6) Chemistry. 

((•) Physics. 
Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Science. 

A School of Pharmacy. 
Including : 

(a) Pharmacy. (rf) Prescription Practice. 

(6) Chemistry. («) Botany'. 

(c) Materia Medica. 
Leading to the Degree of Graduate in Pharmacy. 

((•) Entomology. 

(d) Agricultural Chemistry. 

(e) Veterinary Science. 

(d) Industrial Art. 
(ej Sanitary Science. 


-uL , 

Indianapolis High School 


George w. Hufford, 

Principal— Greek. 


Engiisli Literature. 

ANGELiNE P. Carey, 

Englisli — Algebra. 

Junius b. Roberts, 

Modern History. 




Civil Government — 
Political Economy. 



Fidelia Anderson, 



Algebra — Geometry. 

JOHN C. Trent, 

Algebra — Geometry. 







AGNES R. Rankin, 

English — Latin. 



EUGENE Mueller, 


George w. martin. 

Botany — Zoology- 


Geometry — Algebra. 


Greek — English. 


French — Latin. 


Stenography — 



WILLIAM J. Greenwood, 


Ancient and 
English History. 


Psychology — English. 


Assistant in Botany. 


Assistant in Chemistry. 

FRED C. Kendall, 

Assistant in Physics. 

Bertrand B. Downey, 

Assistant in Physics. 

The High School Annual. 

' Let knowledge Q'row from more to more.'' 

VoLL No. 4. 


June, 1897. 


I IKE everything else, based on national 
I character, German student life is not 
^^ easily understood. It is as many 
sided and as difficult of appreciation as the 
German character itself. Americans, at 
least in their native wilds, are apt to ig- 
nore national characteristics. We may 
notice, for example, certain peculiarities 
common to our German- American friends ; 
but we seldom realize that there is a com 
pact German nation, conscious of its own 
power, thinking its own thoughts, and 
looking at all questions from a standpoint 
different from our own. Contact with 
other nations, in their native lands, alone 
can awaken a realization of differences in 
national characteristics; so in reading this 
short account of such impressions of Ger- 
man student life, as I happen to remember, 
I merely hope you will bear in mind that 

German ways are not our ways, and Ger- 
man views are not our views. Judge them 
simply for themselves ; they are neither to 
be blindly condemned nor blindly imitated. 
In the first place, the German student 
has an altogether different preparation 
from the American student. From his sixth 
to his eighteenth year he attends a day 
school called a "Gymnasium." Here he is 
under strict surveillance, and forced to 
work much harder than American boys do 
in the grammar or high school. Girls are 
of course excluded from the Gymnasia*; 
they attend a girls' school, do not learn 
Latin or Greek, and their education ends 
ordinarily when they are confirmed, i. e., 
at about the sixteenth year. The Germans 
think that a woman's place is in the nur- 
sery and kitchen. So the hoys and the 
girls go to separate schools and each re- 
ceives a different preparation for life. 

'■'There is now, I believe, but one " Gymnasium " for girls 
in Germany, that at Cassel. 



When a boy has struggled through the 
"Gymnasiuni" and passed his "abiturien- 
ten " examination, he is almost as old as 
an American sophomore, knows Latin and 
Greek thoroughly, has a smattering of the 
natural sciences and of religion (i e., Bible 
knowledge) and knows something of 
Hebrew, English, and French. His Ger- 
man history he knows pretty well. He 
can fence and he understands the rudi- 
ments of beer-drinking. His teachers liave 
been for the most part nniversity men, and 
he knows by hearsay, all about university 
life. And so he comes up to the university 
as a "little fox," or •• Fuechslein," as a 
student in the first semester is called, and 
finds himself for the first time in his life a 
free mau — and absolutely free. He is even 
exempt from arrest, and for minor otfenses 
his only punishment is imprisonment in 
the university " Career,'" a punishment, 
which in the smaller universities is con 
sidered by the more boisterous as a good 
"lark," to be indulged iu at least once in 
one's university life. A student smashes a 
policeman's helmet, gets three days in the 
"Career" and makes himself immortal by 
painting his silhouette, his name, and his 
ofiense on the ceiling of his cell. 

But to return to the point, the German 
students are relieved entirely from all out- 
side restraint, and, as might be expected, 
plunge into all sorts of excesses, the most 
common of which is undue indulgence in 
beer. It is not fitting here to describe all 
their interesting drinking customs and 
wonderful drinking feats. It is enough to 
say that beer drinking is an essential part 
of all meetings — public and private — and 
tliat it is not regarded as immoral or in- 
jurious. A man does not feel that he is 
doing wrong iu hecoming intoxicated, and 
therefore does not commit the moral crime 
against himself, of which an American 
under the same circumstances is guilty. 

In the German university, there are no 

class organizations, and there is, therefore, 
no class feeling. There is not even any 
university feeling, at least among the 
students. ISTor is this possible where the 
students circulate freely from one univer- 
sity to another, and each has a separate 
little commencement of his own when he 
takes his degree. But the students are 
grouped into duelling corps, which are 
social organizations; into " Burschen- 
schaften," which are primarily political, 
and secondarily social, and into a number 
of other societies, social and scientific. 
Seldom, except for temporary political 
purposes, or for some demonstration or 
celebration, do the students act together, 
and even then, they take part as members 
of their respective societies. Each society 
has its monograijL, its motto, its cap, its 
parade uniform, and its banner. And a 
great sight it is to see the students of a 
large university assembled in a"Kommerz," 
as it is called, as I saw them on the Kaiser's 
birthday last year in Berlin. The banners 
were grouped around the platform ; below, 
clothed in the gayest of uniforms, sat the 
presidents of the participating societies. 
The long tables in the hall were assigned 
to the difl^erent organizations — two tables 
were reserved for members of the faculty. 
At the end of each table was stationed a 
student officer in parade costume. Of a 
sudden, the presiding officers stood up and 
drew their swords, the table officers fol- 
lowed, all rapped three times on the tables 
to command silence. Then came a short 
speech from the chief president and a 
"hoch" (cheer) for His Majesty the Em- 
peror. And the hall shook with the roar 
of a thousand voices ; the beer glasses were 
emptied at a draught and pounded on the 
tables to prove it. Then the}' sang: 

" Deutschland, Deutsclilaiid, iiher alles, 
Ueber alles in der Welt." 

And SO they went on until early morn- 
ing, speecli-making, cheering, and singing 


in turn, and drinking beer the whole time. 
How they got home I did not stay to see, 
but they were doubtless thinking that the 
Hohenzollei'iis were the greatest men that 
ever drew sword, that they themselves 
would give their last drop of blood for 
'• Deutschland" and the "Kaiser," and that 
Deutschland, "the land w^iere iron grows," 
was the greatest and most beautiful empire 
in the world. But next morning the stu- 
dent body had broken up into separate 
units again. And such celebrations, which 
bring the different cliques together, occur 
only a few times a year. 

What is, then, the unifying i'orce which 
makes the German Univereity what it is? 
The students are only typical Germans, 
jolly, pleasuredoving young I'ellows, fond 
of their beer and yet possessed of the keen- 
est appreciation for the beauties of nature. 
They are not organized. They shift 
around from one university to another. 
The students drift along without fear of 
examination until they realize the serious- 
ness of life and begin to study of their 
own accord. And yet there is a something 
which you feel is common to all German 
universities. Yoa find it among the stu- 
dents, among the young Doctors and " Pri- 
vat Docenten " and among the full Profes- 
sors. It is, in fact, the university idea. 
A university should be a group of schohirs 
representing every field of learning and 
each actively at work adding to the knowl- 
edge of the world — a big society for the 
investigation of truth and its promulga- 
tion. Every one who is sufliciently pre- 
pared is made Avelcome ; if he wishes it, 
but not otherwise, he is helped on to be- 
come himself an original investigator, /. e., 
a " Doctor." There is no forcing any one 
— that is lelt to the "Gymnasium." The 
ability to create coupled with the desire, 
that is the test of a mail's value; and the 
desire to create is the very living soul of 
the German University — the desire of cre- 

ating clearness of knowledge where before 
was only ignorance and miserable, blun- 
dering blindness. That is the inward fire 
which makes the German University man 
struggle along year after year — clothes 
shabby, pocket-book empty, no hope of 
family life, practically nothing but the 
companionship of a few fellow students. 
I have seen it. But he know^s he is fight- 
ing in the front rank for truth and culture. 
It is a little thing, perhaps, to ihrow down 
your pen and say : " There I that is a new 
truth. jSTo one ever knew that before." 
You publish it next month, and a few 
other scholars nod their heads and say: 
"Ah ! that is what we wanted to know. 
Now we can understand this other thing 
that has puzzled us so long." It is a little 
thing; it does not earn any money; the 
world — the fat infant for whom it all is^ 
never knows ; but it is creating. And it 
is the sort of work that has revealed to us 
the story of civilization, what men were 
thinking 4,000 years before Christ, and 
how their thoughts have grown into our 
thoughts. It is the work that. makes us 
free men to-day — free from superstition, 
free from traditional ignorance, free from 
the hunger and the discomfort of the old 
days of the spinning wheel and the stage 
coach. And it is the work that makes us 
wise in the things that are to be. 

The creative impulse is then the great 
merit of the German student body, stu- 
dents and professors, and is that which 
has made German culture and German art 
respected and honored of men. Of course, 
there are counter currents, little human 
jealousies and miserable bickerings here 
and there — and some forget the search for 
truth in their desire to make a career for 
themselves. But the ideal is never entirely 
lost — that ideal of ideals that a man should 
take a work and give his life to it — for the 
work's sake. 

George Reisner, '85. 

No. 216. A SUCCESS. 

( 6 


OUR mail, Monsieur." 

Yes, Cecile. Put it down at the 
door. I will come for it." 
Old Cecile bent witli difficulty and thrust 
the letter under the door into the bare 
French studio. The shabby young fellow 
at the easel put down his brushes and came 
to pick up the epistle. 

"It is from Nora," he said, wiping his 
hands on his painting blouse and turning 
the envelope over tenderly, l^ora was his 
sister in America. She wrote : 

Cragstoavn, Ind., August 21, 1851. 
"My Dear Brother — When this reaches you, your 
picture will be finished, perhaps boxed and sent to the 
Salon. I hope not, for I want you to slip my best 
wishes inside. O, my dearest boy I It will be a suc- 
cess, I know. As sure as your name is Scott Baird and 
mine is Eleanora, "Rest" will not be rejected nor skied 
like the others, but hung on the line. I know it! I 
know it! To be sure, I've never seen the picture. I 
haven't seen you for seven years, but I'll never take 

back the wager I made when you went away — that you 
would some day be famous. 

Now, good-bye and good luck ! Aunt Fidge is call- 
ing to say that the sun's in her eyes, a fly on her nose, 
her book fallen on the Hoor, and Eover trying to bury 
his bone in tlie flower-pot. What an unfortunate I am 
to be a favorite of invalids ! Yours, 


Scott laid down the letter and turned to 
look at the picture on the easel. It was 
the figure of a French peasant sitting un- 
der a flowering apple tree. It was an 
exquisite scene, exquisitely painted, and 
Scott's face glowed, for he recognized his 
own success, and that this picture was the 
culmination of his ten years of labor. 

The picture was boxed and sent to the 
committee of the Salon, and the young 
artist walked the streets until two o'clock 
that iiight. Then he went home and wrote 
to ]N"ora. 

The painting, dauntless, met next day 
the eyes of the judges for acceptance. It 
was accepted, after some hesitation, for the 


artificiality of the French school of art had 
not heen entirely eradicated, and the crite- 
rion of French artists elevated to the stand- 
ard of Millet. Then the hanging commit- 
tee took it in hand, and pondered long and 
silently. M. Chatereaux was a man of great 
influence (the influence of money and posi- 
tion) on this board, and it was to him that 
the others, when in doubt, were wont to 
turn. They did so now, and Chatereaux, 
blind to the picture's merit, assigned it an 
inferior position. "Eest" was "skied." 

It was the day of the First View. Chat- 
ereaux was everywhere. The galleries were 
crowded, the critics swarming, the artists 
anxious. Among the first to arrive was a 
little man, with a white delicate face. It 
was Scott Baird, come to view his picture. 
Then commenced an eager search, and at 
last he found it, 'No. 216. High over a 
doorway in an ill-lighted corner hung 
" Rest." Scott stood, nervously fingering 
his catalogue, his sensitive face twitching, 
his eyes raised to see the masterpiece. 

Chatereaux, hurrying past, saw him 
there, and following the direction of his 
eyes, saw the picture and guessed that he 
was the artist. 

"Well, w^ell," he said, "I wonder if I 
have made a mistake. Can there be merit 
in that picture which I failed to recognize. 
J^onseuse ! I grow nervous as a woman. 
Hundreds of men have stood just as he 
does. Yet his is a pathetic figure on my 
faith. But here comes Daurot and he is 
late again. He always is. He hates the 
crowd. I believe he is the only critic who 
comes to the first view to criticise. I hope, 
on m}' soul, he'll find no mistakes in the 
hanging to rail about. A fine opening, 
Daurot. How are you ?" 

"Good evening, Chatereaux." 

"Have you had time to look around 


But a few moments 

" Ah ! The Salon is something to be 
proud of this year, I flatter myself,'' and 
Chatereaux surveyed the gallery with satis- 
faction written on his stupid, gentlemanly 

"I was about to say, when you inter- 
rupted," went on Daurot, calmly rumpling 
his hair, "that I have been here but a few^ 
moments, yet long enough to discover one 
good picture that will never be seen by the 
fools who glue their eyes to those on the 

"A mistake then of ours in the hanging, 
yon think?" 

"A mistake! A bull of scarcely less 
atrocity than the year you mixed the great 
Corton Madonna with the first eflbrt of a 
little English upstart who gained a day's 
notoriety thereby. A few more blunders of 
this kind, Chatereaux, and even your " 

" But this picture ! What is it ? " 

"Ah! This picture. A bit of French 
rural life. A masterpiece hung at an 
Alpine height over a doorway in a dark 

"My life! and you mean jSTo. 216. A 
mistake, Daurot, but not ours. A bull, as 
you call it, but of the workmen. It will 
be rectified to-morrow, I assure you. The 
committee will be too glad to rectify it. I 
am glad you mentioned it. It is, as you 
say, a masterpiece. And Bourne's latest ? 
What of that?" 

But Daurot, at that moment, was cap- 
tured and borne away by a young artist to 
tear to pieces the work of some struggling 
student, for Daurot was the greatest critic 
in Paris and ruled with a high hand in 
att'airs of art, wisely though severely, as 
his power lay in knowledge. 

Scott had left the gallerj^ long before. 
His frail figure looked more shabby and 
out of place than ever as he passed along 
the lighted streets. 

" ISTora will be so disappointed! Nora 


will be so disappointed ! It will almost 
break her heart. IvTow, of course, I'm a 
man and can bear up under misfortune, 
but ISTora, she's different," he murmured 
to himself. He was very chilly, for he had 
sold his overcoat to buy the gilt frame for 
his picture. When he reached his studio, 
he lit his lamp. It was ver}- late and he 
had had no supper. 

"I think I will write to Nora," he said, 
"she will be so an.xious, but I mustn't let 
her see how — how I feel about it. I'll be 
very gay and careless." And he wrote: 

"Dear Noka — I am consuming the midnight oil to 
write you that the great French nation has made a fear- 
ful mistake. It has laid bare its ignorance by skying 
my picture. How I pitied the people, falling into ec- 
stasies over simpering Madonnas and cherubs having 
convulsions. I knew they were missing half the show. 
I, myself, was enabled to gaze on my masterpiece with 
the assistance of a step-ladder and a telescope. 
" Write me soon : 


It was after one o'clock, but he decided 
to go out and mail the letter. He crept 
from his room and down the stairs. Old 
Cecile, who had been up all night with her 
sick daughter, saw him opening the front 

" Monsieur," she whispered, " Is it you ?" 

He turned and she saw his white drawn 

" It is a ghost," she murmured, shudder- 
ing and crossing herself, and she scuttled 
down the narrow hall. 

Scott paused a moment on the threshold 
and then stepped out into the night and 
closed the door behind him. 

There was a crowd around a picture in 
the Salon ; a picture hung in the best light ; 
that of a peasant girl resting under an 
apple tree. Critics were extravagant in 
their praise; "such color;" " such treat- 
ment;" "such repose." Would-be pur- 
chasers were numerous. Chatereaux was 
in his glory. 

" Yes," he said, beaming complacently 
on tlie painting, "I have, as you say, dis- 
covered a new light. I was struck with 
this picture from the first. The artist? 
An American — Scott Baird. A student of 
rare promise." Daurot said nothing, but 
rumpled his hair and chewed the corners 
of his catalogue. 

As for the artist, where was he? He 
had become a lion. Why did he not ap- 
pear on the scene to be lionized? Chate- 
reaux had written him, had invited him to 
dine but received no answer. Finally he 
went to see him. He found old Cecile 
scrubbing the stairs^ 

" Baird ? " she said, " Oh, Monsieur ! It 
is for the 3'oung American artist you ask. 
Holy Virgin ! It was but three days ago 
that I ideutitied his body in the morgue. 
Found drowned, Monsieur, and so kind 
and young! His poor sister in America! 
Alas! alas! And his picture? You say 
it will take the medal?" 

Myla Jo Closser, '99. 


PROMINENT among the features that 
distinguish the New from the Old 
World is the power wielded b}' the 
press. The wealthiest metropolis as well as 
the poorest and most obscure hamlet boasts 
of tlie products of its journalism. Its seeds 
have been wafted into our institutions of 
learning, and daily college papers are issued 
that are models of their kind. As the high 
school feels itself bound to adopt the man- 
ners and methods of the higher institu 
tions, we find that nearly every high school, 
and occasionally a prominent grammar 
school, possesses its magazine or news- 
paper. Few Americans to-day do not 
receive at least a high school education, so 


it is not extravagant to say that nearly all 
Americans have had an interest in news- 
paper publication, whether as a publisher 
or as an occasional correspondent dignified 
by the title of room-reporter. Thus in the 
high schools is planted the seed of jour- 
nalism, which, when rooted by education 
and watered by experience, develops into 
our metropolitan newspaper. Truly, we 
may re-christen the high school as the 
Genesis of Journalism. Let us examine 
into the forces that are all-powerful in the 
creation of this genesis. 

The tendency of the old school of peda- 
gogy is to create a yawning chasm between 
teacher and pupil. The teacher is to be 
looked upon by the pupil as one infinitely 
superior. The old order changeth, yielding 
place to the new. With the advent of the 
new school, the chasm is being rapidly 
closed. It is the teacher's constant aim to 
gain the good will of the pupil, and be- 
tween the two a bond of friendship is 
woven that is greatly strengthened by the 
high school paper. It is the force that has 
been iniiuential in bridging over the chasm 
between the teacher and pupil. In the 
paper, the teacher and pupil see each other 
in a light never observed before. A better 
understanding results in a firmer friend- 

The teacher studies the pupil through 
his paper and sees in him characteristics 
never exhibited in class. The pupil thinks 
he loses his individuality in that of his 
paper, so he expresses his desires with a 
force of argument that could never be 
brought out without the medium of the 

Any critical observer, by means of the 
school paper, can form a fair idea of the 
students' ability. The ability of the stu- 
dent onlv reflects that of his teacher. So 

a well regulated school paper is a fair ther- 
mometer of the ability of the school. 

However, it must not be forgotten that, 
in the paper, the pupil is not aided by the 
strong arm of the teacher. He is thrown 
on his own resources, and his ability is 
tested to the utmost. 

After the faculty, the school paper is 
most influential in establishing the renown 
of the school. By means of its out-of-town 
subscribers and exchange list it makes its 
Alma Mater known and respected in every 
prominent city and institution of learning. 

Chief among the good results is the touch 
of practical business life it gives the stu- 
dent. Without the paper the pupil swal- 
lows a vast amount of theor^^ but misses 
the thorough digestion of application. But 
the paper compels the pupil to bring into 
practical use all of his theories. He comes 
in contact Avith a world of business, infln- 
itely larger than that in which he lately 
moved. This training gives the pupil a 
preparation for after life that can not be 
too highly estimated. The advertiser, 
printer, exchange, contributor and sub- 
scriber — all bring before him a bewilder- 
ing world, which will give him a training 
of vast importance when he formally en- 
rolls in the battle of life. 

Journalism should be encouraged and 
fostered in our institutions of learning, for 
in them arises the genesis. The youth, 
inspired by the influence of the national 
press, enters the school with an ambition 
to be a journalist. In him the journalistic 
seed is sown — the genesis has been created. 
Kourish this seed ; enable it to grow until 
it is able to stand unsupported. 

Such is the duty of the public school, 
the grandest of the institutions of liberty, 
towards tbe press, the noblest of the forces 
of freedom. Lawrence B. Davis, "97. 



A stretch of meadow clad in golden green, 
A winding stream that ripples gaily by, 

A bit of daisied field, a few white clonus 
Low nestled 'gainst the wide encircling sky. 

But sunlit waters, and the breeze-blown leaf, 
The peaceful blue, and each delicious part 

Of this sweet roadside view, reveal afresh 

Th' eternal love that dwells in Nature's heart. 
S. M., '98. 


OJSTE evening, when all of us railroad 
fellows were gathered in the round- 
house for a smoke, I requested Mc- 
Donald, engineer of No. 20, to tell us one 
of his many thrilling adventures. The old 
man took his pipe from his mouth, spat, 
and inquired, " Have any of you fellows 
ever heard of Bill Whipple, and how he 
saved the Moorland excursion?" Upon 
receiving a negative reply, without any 
ceremony, he began : 

"It's more'n twenty years ago, when I 
was a fireman, that ]>ill came to the Val- 
ley. I remember now the first time I ever 
saw him, standin" there on the platform, 
with his carpet-bag on one arm an' M'lissy 
on the other. M'lissy was his sister, a lit- 
tle mite of a thing, not more'n fifteen, an' 
the way she clung to him was pitiful. 
That was what first made me take to him, 
an' I must say he was the truest chum a 
man ever had. I liked him from the very 
first, though he was just a clumsy country 
boy, au' somehow he seemed to take to 
me. I used to be ruther a wild chap till 
he came, but after I got to droppin' in of 
an evenin' the old ways seemed to pall on 
me. I can't remember when I ever had a 
home of my own, an' my evenin's at the 
little cottage became the most precious 
thing on earth, an' not for anything would 
I have willin'ly given up the right to look 
M'lissy iu the eyes an' say, 'Good evenin'. 

" Bill had taken a cottage on the Em- 
bankment, above the new cut, where she 
could see his train ev'ry day at exactly 
11:45. He had a signal that he used only 
fer the cut, to let her know he was comin' 
— two short toots an' a long one. An' 
soon's she hears the whistle, out she runs 
an' waves her aprun. An' that cottage loas 
fixed up purty; mornin' glories an' sweet 
peas planted all over the porch, an' fiower- 
beds all round the hou^e. 

" Bill got her a carpet fer the settin' 
room, an' he an' me put it down, an' tacked 
up the curtains in the parlor, an' papered 
it. M'lissy was the best housekeeper I ever 
saw; not a speck on anything; pans 
bright as a dollar, an' windows an" fioor 
clean as a pin. An' sing! she'd sing from 
mornin' to dark, an' beat any music I ever 
heard. Perhaps you fellows don't under- 
stand why I'm philanderin' along this 
a'way 'bout Bill an' the cottage an' M'liss}^ 
but you wouldn't see the point of my yarn 
if I didn't. However, I set out to tell 
about Bill, and I better be doin' it. 

"Bill's greatest ambition was to be a 
conductor, bavin' engineered for three year 
an' more, an" he used to tell me all about 
his hopes, an' chances, and disappintments. 
He was the most deservin' engineer on the 
road ; tended old 432 as if she was a baby ; 
alluz kept a sharp eye ahead on the track, 
an' I don't believe anybody livin' to-day 
deserves promotion moi'e'n he did. He was 
chuckful of ambition, but awfully despond- 
ent. He'd worked three year stead}' an" 
faithful, an" not a shadow of advancement 
at the end of it. I"ve often heard him say, 
in that slow, patient way of his, " M"lissy, 
there don't seem to be much show fer me, 
somehow." But M'lissy would answer with 
a smile, "Oh, Bill, you're bound to rise; 
tliey ain't no two ways to it." An" then 
she'd talk to him till he brightened up, or 
sometimes she'd read to him out of a book 



of poems. His favorite was one called 
" Excelsior," an' he said it suited him ex- 
actly ; that it meant the same as risin'. 
Sometimes when we were enterin' the cut 
an' watchin' for M'lissy, I'd see his lips 
movin', an' knew he was sayin' it over to 

"Well, you may just imagine what a 
blow it was to him when M'lissy died. She 
hadn't been sick more'n a week, an' it nigh 
drove Bill crazy. When we'd come flyin' 
through the cut, an" see the little house 
standin' so lonely an' forsaken, with no 
wavin' ligure in the doorway, I tell you it 
gave me a turn. Bill warn't the same after 
that; more moody-like, but he clung to me 
all the closer. 

" Well, to come to the point — one day we 
were sent out with the long, heavily-loaded 
Moorland Excursion. Prob'bly you boys 
don't remember when they used to run 
this train once ev'ry week from Moorland 
to Cambridge and back? No, of course, 
you don't Directors found it didn't pay, 
an' closed it up nigh lifteen years ago. 
That day there must have been fully nine 
hundred people behind us as Bill opened 
up the throttle an' pulled out of the station. 

"I remember that run as if it was yes- 
terday. The day was a 'tarnal hot one, an' 
the grasshoppers were singin' fit to split. 
A kind of a blue haze hung over the dis- 
tant hills 'n' forests ; an occasional buzzard 
swung round an' round in lazy spirals ; now 
an' again a busy gopher, underminin' the 
track in the interest of the section gang, 
would glide into his hole as we roared by. 
It's queer how such little things stick in 
one's memory. 

" At last Bill's voice broke the silence, 
"Whistle fer the cut, Mack." We both 
looked out of the window to where the 
little house stood, high on the bluff. It 
was empty now, an' the windows stared 
out at us as we passed. In place of the 

little figure with the aprun, only the morn- 
in' glories an' sweet peas nodded to us ; the 
flower-beds, overgrown with weeds, the 
windows curtainless an' empty, almost 
brought the tears to my eyes. Bill was 
leatiin' far out o' the cab, lookin' eagerlj^ 
hack. Then he came and took his seat by 
the throttle. As we rattled over trestles 
an' through swamps, an' dived into a bit 
o' forest an' then out into the hot sunshine 
ag'in, I seemed to see things that were not, 
an' to fancy I heard M'lissy's voice sayin', 
"Bill, you've got to rise,'' and Bill an- 
swerin', "You bet, M'lissy." Way out 
ahead of us stretched the two iron rails; 
the great engine throbbed an' quivered; 
the ' klank, klank' of the piston began to 
sound monotonous in my ears, an' over all 
came the shrill whiz of the grasshoppers. 

" I was jest stoopin' to fill the furnace, 
when — what is that? With one bound I 
was on my feet an' peerin' through my 
window. Bill's face was rigid as stone, 
listenin'. There it is agin, a faint, long 
whistle. Boys, I really don't think it took 
us two seconds to reverse that lever an' 
whistle down brakes, an' then we went 
whirlin' round the curve, air-brakes 
screechin', wheels grindin', an' the whistle 
goin' like mad. 

"An' there, not half a mile away, so 
far an' yet so terribly near, came a heavy 
freight, roarin' an' hissin' down the grade. 
I saw Bill's face flare white. I knew that 
we could stop in time, but not the freight. 
It was thunderin' down a steep grade; it 
seemed 's if no power on earth could stop 
it jest then. I thought of our helpless 
passengers an' hid my face ; then I thought 
of our danger, an' looked ahead, an' as I 
did so, several flyin' figures told me the 
freight was deserted. An' oh ! it was so 
terribly near ! Suddenly Bill's voice 
aroused me, 'Jump, Mack, jump! ' Boys, 
I swear to you I thought Bill would fol- 



low, au' I jumped. Even as I whirled in 
mid-air I lieard him wrench the lever open 
an' like a wild thing engine Xo. 4-32 tore 
itself loose from its couplin's an' went 
boundin' down the rails. 

"Oh ! the agony of that moment I I saw 
in a second that he'd seized the only pos- 
sible chance of savin' the souls entrusted 
to his care, an' I shivered when I realized 
what it meant. The rails sung as the en- 
gines lurched toward each other. Suddenly 
a wild, despairin' wail rent the stillness 
like a knife. Bill's head appeared at the 
window, an' he waved his hand. Again 
the whistle sounded ; there was a crash, a 
hiss of escaping steam, a loud explosion, 
an' all was still again, save for the fright- 
ened cries of the passengers an' the gentle 
purrin' of the steam. 

" Well, we got him out alive an' laid him 
on the grass 'longside the right of way, an' 
I took his head in my lap. He was un- 
conscious. Women an' even men were 
sobbin' 'round us, but I didn't feel any- 
thing bat jest a dry tightness in my throat, 
as I gently stroked his forehead. Suddenly 
he opened his eyes an' smiled, an' looked up 
in my face, an' moved his lips. ' M'lissy,' 
he said, 'M'lissy, I'm going to — ;" and 
then his head fell back on my arm. An' I 
knew that Bill had risen at last." 

D. M. Ransdell, Jr., '99. 


"Sweet Rose, in air whose odors wave, 
And color charms the eye, 
Thy root is ever in the grave. 
And thou, alas! must die." 

50 many are the classical legends and 
poetical associations connected with 
the rose, that they crowd almost too 
thickly on the memory, battling it by their 
very profusion. By common consent, in 

every clime and in every age, the rose has 
been held the queen of flowers. It has 
been the poet's theme from time imme- 
morial, and vain would be the attempt to 
transcribe even the hundredth part of the 
beautiful things which have been said or 
sung to it. 

It is in summer, when the garden is in 
its glory, and not a blossom seems wanting, 
that the rose, " at length apparent queen," 
comes forth as if to receive the homage of 
all other flowers ; not haughtily, but with 
most winning grace, as if afraid to claim 
her full authority. 

Her fragrance, too, is equal to her beauty, 
that of other flowers may be more spicy, 
more luscious, more powerful, but the fra- 
grance of the rose is unique 

For the benefit of those who wish to be 
acquainted with the classical legends re- 
lating to this flower, I give the following: 

The ancients tell us that roses were 
originally white, but were changed to red 
by the blood of Venus. Another fable 
states that Cupid overthrew a bowl of 
nectar, which, falling to the earth, staiueil 
the rose. 

The rose was given by Cupid as a bribe 
to Harpoerates, the god of Silence, from 
whence, we should suppose, originated the 
custom, which prevailed among the north- 
ern nations of Europe, of suspending a rose 
from the ceiling over tlie upper end of their 
tables, when it was intended that the con- 
versation which took place should be secret ; 
and it is this custom that undoubtedly 
gave rise to the common expression, " Un- 
der the Rose." 

A golden rose was considered so honor- 
able a present that none but crowned beads 
were thought worthy either to give or to 
receive it. Roses of this kind were some 
times consecrated by the popes on Good 
Friday and given to such potentates as 
they most wished to propitiate. The flower 



itself they considered an emblem of the 
moi'tality of the body, and the metal of 
which it was composed of the immortality 
of the soul. Boethius says that William, 
King of Scotland, received a present of this 
sort from Pope Alexander III, and Henry 
VIII a similar gift from Alexander YI. 

The seal of Luther, which is a rose, is 
supposed to be symbolical of the same 
things as those golden presents. 

Roses were also employed by Roman 
emperors as a means of conferring honors 
upon their most famous generals, Avhoni 
they allowed to add a rose to the ornaments 
of their shields — a custom which contin- 
ued long after the Roman Empire had 
passed away, and the vestiges of which 
may yet be traced in the armorial bearings 
of many of the ancient noble families of 

Alice R. Boyeu, '97. 


IN the days when Cicero played upon the 
passions of his fellow men, and moved 
vast audiences by the magic of his sil- 
very speech, oratory was even more an art 
and a studj' than it is to-day. On one oc- 
casion, we lind Cicero, the scholar, pro- 
pounding unanswerable questions, setting 
forth strong facts and employing the most 
polished language in the establishment of 
some favorite theory. Again he is a Roman, 
pleading the cause of his native country in 
terms whose deep patriotism thrills even 
the hearts of his nineteenth century read- 
ers, for love of country is a bond which 
unites all nations and all ages. 

But he is most wonderful — most terrible, 
indeed, in his scorn and anger, hurling 
forth the scathing language which has 
caused him to be known as the master of 
invective. We can almost fancy his enemies 

cowering under the force of his words ; we 
can not help picturing Catiline as trembling 
and shrinking from the torrent of abuse 
flowing from the lips of the great Cicero. 

Even in his harshest moods, however, 
Cicero took care to temper his wrath to the 
taste of his audience. A subtle difference 
may be noted between the tirst and second 
orations against Catiline. The first is ad- 
dressed to the Senate, and, although famed 
as an example of invective, yet an under- 
tone of pleading runs all through it, at 
times coming to the surface to give zest to 
his defiance. '-How long, Catiline, will 
you abuse our patience?" is a cry for suf- 
fering Rome, an angry protest in the name 
other citizens. 

Cicero continues, exhibiting Catiline in 
the cliaracter of traitor, over-zealous dema- 
gogue, and blood-thirsty parasite. He lays 
bare plans which were thought to be well 
concealed, unearths murderous conspira- 
cies and plots of deep-dyed villainy. He 
deals with the personal vices of the culprit 
only to that extent in which they directly 
or indirectly influence Rome or her inter- 
ests. His oration is a plea for Rome, an 
accusation of himself and others in power, 
and a fierce denunciation of Catiline and 
his purposes. By such a skillful comming- 
ling of rage and pleading, of curse and 
prayer, Cicero moved the Senate to action, 
and caused the proud Catiline to leave the 

In the second oration, however, he pur- 
sues different tactics; he exults in the de- 
parture of the public enemy, and urges the 
constituents of that one to follow in order 
that the city may be rid of the defilement 
of their presence. He refers to them in 
very forcible language, employing descrip- 
tive terms verging upon the vulgar, to ef- 
fect his purpose. He enters into the de- 
tails of Catiline's life and opens to view 
the mire of vice in which the traitor had 



wallowed. He shows the harm which the 
spendthrift had brought about by his prac- 
tices. He paints all Catiline's vices in 
words which only a mob would tolerate, 
but this was necessary in order to move 
those already accustomed to crime. This 
Cicero accomplished, however, and caused 
the most hardened to shudder at the black- 
ness of Catiline's deeds. Pie showed them 
Rome, laid waste by hands of the conspir- 
ators ; he held up to their mental view 
their own homes, wrapped in flames, and 
their wives and children slain. 

This well-calculated address was as ef- 
fective as the first in its way ; the populace 
was maddened, strong feeling roused, and 
the way w^ell prepared for the two follow- 
ing addresses and the final execution of 
the conspirators. 

And so, wherever we find Cicero, we see 
him bending to the requirements of the 
occasion, fitting both w'ords and manner 
to the audience w^hich confronted him," 
even suiting himself to the place in which 
he was speaking, until he became, as it 
seemed, a part of the place, of the time, and 
of the people, and so won his way to suc- 

Adelaide Lecklider, '97. 



IVE me the papers. You can not 
take them ; I will." She said this 
in a tone of part command, part 

"You do not understand. It is mere 
folly for you even to think of undertaking 
such a ride. In doing so, you would have 
to pass through the Southern line, and 
doubtless w^ould be seen and pursued, and 
that might mean death. No, I will not 
consent. I shall surely be strong enough 

to start in an hour," and the man's head 
dropped weakly back upon the pillow. 

" No, you will not be strong enough to 
start in an hour, or even in twenty-four, 
were there that time to spare." 

" Colonel trusts me to take the dis- 
patches. The General must have them 
before midnight, and I will take them," 
said the soldier decisively. 

The girl thought soberly for several mo- 
ments. She was brave. And now^ that the 
North and South were fighting so bitterly, 
it was a source of great dissatisfaction to 
her that she was not able to do something 
for her country — her fair, beautiful North. 
Now her opportunity had come. The sol- 
dier, who had volunteered to carry dis- 
patches from his Colonel to his General, 
had become exhausted with heat, hunger, 
and hard riding, and had stopped at hei" 
father's farm for food and rest. She knew 
the way perfectly, and though the ride was 
a long, perilous one, was determined to 
undertake it. 

It is not necessary to describe in detail 
how she ordered Nelly, her own fast little 
horse, saddled, or how she slipped the dis- 
patches from the ragged blue army coat 
while the soldier, the fiush of fever creep- 
ing stealthily into his cheeks, stirred un- 
easily in the stupor that had sunk over him. 

After donning the old blue army suit 
her father had left behind when he went 
to the front, with the precious dispatches 
hidden in an inner pocket of the coat, she 
mounted Nelly and rode away. 

The sun was just setting wdien they came 
in sight of the Southern line. The North- 
ern camp was just two miles beyond. 

The girl stooped and patted the horse's 
neck. "Nelly, dear," she whispered, "do 
your best, old friend, for, oh ! Nelly, it 
means so much if we are beaten. There 
is only the one place in the road, Nelly — 
down there by the turn — where the pickets 



will surely see us. But we must ride hard 
then. We must get well by before they 
have time to give the alarm." 

Then she scanned the fields and woods 
breathlessly, and waited. They were near- 
ing the turn. She touched Nelly lightly 
with her hand. The horse leaped forward. 
They were at the turn ! They were past ! 

There was a sudden sharp crack of mus- 
ketry ; a bullet whizzed by the girl's head, 
simultaneously with a stern command, 
" Halt ! " 

For several moments the girl did not 
dare to look behind her. Wlien she did, 
three flying figures, enveloped in a cloud 
of dust, told her the tale. She was pur- 
sued ! ■ ■ : ■ 

She looked again. They were — oh, no ! 
it could not be ! — but yes, it was I They 
Avere gaining on her steadily ! She bent 
far forward over the horse's neck. " Faster ! 
Faster ! JS'elly," she whispered brokenly. 
" It is only a mile more ! " 

The girl, with paling cheeks and com- 
pressed lips; the horse, with dilating nos- 
trils and flashing eyes! On and on they 
dashed! A quarter of a mile; half a 
mile; but now the bullets began to fall 
thick and fast around them! A quarter 
of a mile more ! And now the girl raised her- 
self in her stirrups and leaned far forward. 

" On, on, Nelly ! Faster ! They will not, 
they can not, dare to come much nearer." 

Suddenly, from the dark woods in front 
of her, several bullets whizzed by on their 
deadly errands. Several dark-blue figures 
leaped into tlie road. 

They had reached the picket line of the 
ISTorthern army ! 

And tlie General, after he had read the 
dispatches, turned to the girl and said: 

" Child, you have done a brave deed. 
You have oflered and risked your life for 
your country. More, no man can do !" 
Lilian Mitchell, '00. 


ONE winter in an Eastern manufactur- 
ing town many men were on a strike. 
The sympathy of people was with 
the strikers and their families, and help 
had been rendered them from many sources. 
Every one had given something except 
Nathan Strong, the weaver, who was called 
the stingiest man in town. He lived alone, 
at the edge of town, making neither friends 
nor enemies, but weaving the best carpet 
in that part of the country, and being con- 
stantly crowded with orders, had accumu- 
lated some wealth. About two months 
after the beginning of the strike, there be- 
gan coming to the postotfice every Wednes- 
day and Saturday a letter addressed to the 
postmaster, containing ten dollars for the 
strikers, which caused considerable specu- 
lation. After some debate on the question, 
it was decided that Max Fairfield, a pre- 
tentious fellow of some means, was the 
donor, instead of Harry Winter, of some- 
what the same character. 

One evening some strikers and their 
wives, on their way to thank Mr. Fairfield, 
found the dead body of Nathan Strong 
near a letter-box. In his hand was one of 
the strange letters, addressed to the post- 
master. Immediately the letters stopped, 
and the townsmen regretted they had con- 
sidered him so stingy, when he was really 

Ida Rodibaugh, '00. 

Nature Ijeats in perfect tune. 
And rounds with rhyme her every rune, 
"Whether she work in land or sea, 
Or hide underground her aleliemy. 
Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, 
Or dip thy paddle in the lake, 
But it carves the bow of beauty there, 
And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake. 




Zhc 6olben Hge, 


Once in the memoried ages, when man, by Prometheus 
Was by his wisdom endued with the lire which he 
stole from immortals. 
Entered the tirst of the Ages, the (4olden Age, pure, 
Spotless and glorious it passed through the light of 
Earth's radiant portals. 

Lo ! see the god-giv'n Utopia, longed-for in dreams 
beatific ; 
Love of the true, of the good, and the beautiful shap- 
ing their manhood, 
Never did criminals dread to behold an avenger's stern 
features ; 
Man without need of a judge was master of sin and 
of falsehood. 

Never a suppliant throng feared justice nor quailed at 
the letters 
Graven on tablets of bronze. No law save the prompt- 
ings of conscience 
Governed the spirits of men who were lovers of peace 
and uprightness. 
Hid in oblivion's shades, yet unborn, lurked all evil 
and vengeance. 


High on the mountains the pine trees. Nature-crowned 
kings of the woodland, 
Ruled o'er their virginal forests, untouched in impe- 
rial sjdendor ; 
Never had man's ruthless hand base sacrilege done to 
their honor; 
Shaping their sinewy limbs into ships ever restless to 


Men had no longing to view other lands, but dwelt in 
Heeding the will of the wise-ruling gods who forbade 
navigation ; 
Still they continued in peace, unstained by luxurious 
Pure and unblemished by wealth, which occasions 
the downfall of nations. 

Earth, with her emerald waves, unscarred by deep 
moats round her cities, 
Lay like the lands of the gods in ethereal realms of 

War, witli the brazen-voiced bugles and shrieking of 
trumpets, was needless; 
Men without helmets or swords were l:)lessed with a 
concord harmonious. 


Beautiful in her perfection, the Earth, undespoiled by 
the plow-share. 
Yielded to man all the wealth of her bountiful 
Never a vulture-clawed mattock unfeelingly wounded 
or harmed her ; 
Earth unsolicited gave gracious gifts for man's inno- 
cent pleasure. 


Man, with his wants all supplied by the freely giv'n 
products about him. 
Gathered from mountain and plain the strawberries 
sweet, and collected 
Fruit from the stout cornel bushes and blackberries 
clinging 'mid brambles. 
Garnered the acorns that fell from the arms of the 
oak, Zeus-protected. 


Soft sighing zephyrs were touching with gentle and 
loving caresses 
Eainbow-winged Howers, unsown, but fallen from 
Love's radiant garlands ; 
Earth, though unplowed, was yielding the fruits of a 
bountiful nature ; 
Grain heads like silver hoar frost lay glistening over 
the lowlands. 


Filled with rich Bacchanal wine and milk flowed the 
wandering rivers ; 
Honey in golden-hued beads was distilled from the 
trees and hung pendent; 
LTnder the sweet, serene shadows the Springtime with 
beauty and gladness 
Held her perpetual sway, while Earth lay in Love's 
rare enchantment. 


Thus in the memoried ages did man, by Prometheus 
Live in the beauty of holiness, perfect in form and in 
being ; 
Lived undisturbed by all strife, enjoying the jjeace of 
Proving the wisilom of him who created the race, all 

Mary Fitch Sbwall, '97. 




All hail once more the jo3'ous spring 
When wild flowers bloom and song birds sing, 
When every blade and every sprout 
Waves nature's emblems round about. 

Now brooklets through the meadows glide, 
And violets spring up side by side 
Where Mother Nature laid her hand 
And bade them beautify the land. 

Sweet sunshine fills the balmy air 
And birds are flying everywhere, 
Breaking to all the happy song 
That spring has come and winter gone. 

Each morning, with its clear blue skies, 
Looks down on many flowery eyes 
That twinkle as the stars of night. 
And play hide-and-seek with the rays of light. 
Walter Wall, '00. 


THERE is, as is being realized more and 
more, a great lack of sense-traiuiug in 
our public schools, and a great deal of 
time and mental energy wasted which might 
be utilized in their cultivation. 

This is (juite evident in business life, and 
gives rise to the idea that a college gradu- 
ate is less able to till a certain })Osition than 
one whose sole educator has been experi- 
ence, simply because the former has under- 
gone a system of cramming, accompanied 
by no lessons in the practical application of 
text-book facts.. 

It is quite easy to understand why this 
inability of the pupil to apply his knowl- 
edge exists if we but look at the present 
mode of instruction. Eor example — a pupil 
spends years in the study of grammar learn- 
ing to diagram sentences and distinguish 
between the cases. Yet the majority of 
students entering High School, not to men- 
tion graduating from it, make such gross 

and inexcusable errors as " Who have you 
got in this subject?" or, "It washer I 
saw." In pursuing some of the higher 
subjects, such as geology, the pupils are 
well versed in the detinition of such com- 
mon terms as stratification, yet, doubtless, 
a third of the class would be unable to 
recognize it if they saw it in nature. 

Practical knowledge should be as neces- 
sary to the pupil's promotion as a satisfac- 
tory test paper. How is this evil in our 
schools to be remedied? The first step has 
already been taken. That is — the evil is 
fully realized in educational circles. The 
second step is rapidly being pushed for- 

It is true that high schools are, to a great 
extent, a system of cramming. We have 
not nearly enough time to do justice to each 
subject. But the fault lies not in an over 
amount of work, but in the manner of its 
arrangement. A small amount of the time 
wasted in the grades would easily suffice to 
relieve the superficial high school student. 

Repetition is one of the important factors 
in the grades. The child is taken success- 
ively through a little and a big geography, 
and a high and a low grammar and arith- 
metic. Once thoroughly mastered (for noth- 
ing is gained by their monotonous repeti- 
tion), should these sulyects not be dropped 
for some of the present high school subjects ? 
Is there anything in later reading we re- 
member so well as the unprofitable little 
reader stories and fairy tales of our youth ? 
Just at that time the child's mind is most 
impressionable. The stories of mythology 
and history which are presented in the most 
simple, entertaining, and instructive manner 
should compose the modern reader. 

A few of these changes are already on 
foot, but their rapid increase will do much 
for the present excellence of our standard 
and the thoroughness of our pupils. 

Susie Howe. 




[Written on Virginia poast, '96.] 

Let me lie here so, with the sands of centuries whirled 

round me, 
Let me dream in the wind 

Of a time beyond all times ere the white sands were sifted 
Swept ashore by the sea. 

Let me dream — age follows age 'mid a whirl of suns, 
And stars and moon->; 

Voices of strange men sound, and race after race goes by, 
To journey the path of souls. 

Let me lie here, so — I fain would dream alway 
On these white eternal hills. 
Gold-dripping suns and dead sands swirled 
Sifted, and swept, and swirled. 


IT was one of those bright, sunny days of 
early April, and, as I walked along the 
cotTutry road, and over the bridge into 
the woods, it seemed that May had loaned 
her balmy breezes and fleecy skies in return 
for April's careful nursing of the May 

When you tind yourself away from the 
ceaseless panorama of the town and out of 
reach of care, you are very apt to wander 
in miud as well as in body. And so I 

For a time all was silent, except for the 
gurgling of the creek and the sound of 
bursting buds, which formed an accompani- 
ment for the still voice that seemed to come 
from the air. 

It whispered : 

" When breezes are soft and skies are fair, 
I steal an hour from study and care. 
And hie me away to the woodland scene." 

It paused, and then continued, — 

"To him who in the love of nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, 
She speaks a 
Various language." 

In sympathy with the surroundings I 
did not ask, "From whence comes this 
mysterious voice? hut questioned — 1 know 
not whether in words or only in my mind — 
"Does Nature never lead one to think of 
glad and happy things?" 

In the same soft, soothing sounds came 
my answer : 

"For his gayer hours 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty. 

And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray. 
On the leaping waters and gay young isles; 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away." 

And when I did as I was bidden, the 
playful clouds veiled the face of our sunny 
friend, and April stopped in her merry- 
making to water her proteges. 

As I walked home, I realized that I had 
been taking a stroll with Brj'aut, and had 
seen the world, for a little time, through 
his eyes. 

Frances M. Gregoky, "00. 


1 f I ^ were on board the " Paris," and as 
\XJ the great ocean "steanier ploughed 
her way through tlie water, we 
could hear the throbbing of the engines, 
like the steady heat of a pendulum. Every 
one was up on the' promenade deck, some 
wrapped in shawls and sitting in the com- 
fortable steamer chairs, while others, who 
wished exercise, walked round the deck. 

It was one of those perfect October days, 
which are so rare on the ocean. The sky 
was clear, the air bracing, and the broad 
expanse of water seemed to change, as if 
by magic, from a deep green to a delicate 
blue, and then hack to its origiiuxl color. 

About two o'clock in the afternoon, the 
captain came down from the bridge and 



said that there was a steamer in sight away 
to the south. The field-glasses were in 
great demand, and every one watched the 
boat with breathless interest. It soon be- 
gan to assume a definite shape, and a long 
line of smoke from the funnels followed it. 

By five o'clock, the two ships had come 
near enough together to signal to each 
other, and there was great excitement on 
board the " Paris." The boat proved to be 
the " Teutonic," of the White Star Line, 
three days out from l^ew York and bound 
for Liverpool. After the " Paris" had given 
her reply to the signals of the " Teutonic," 
the two steamers saluted each other by 
dipping their colors, and then went on 
their way. 

Far across the water came the distant 
notes of the band playing " The Star- 
Spangled Banner," and I think every 
American on board felt a pati-iotic thrill. 
The music grew fainter and farther away ; 
the sun sank beneath the horizon a great 
red disk, and gradually the darkness came 
on. We were alone on the ocean. 

Muriel Hitt, '99. 


SOMBRE, silent and black, an ill-omen 
of bygone usefulness, an old wind- 
battered mill raises its huge bulk of 
shrunken, time-worn rafters, in vain en- 
deavor to keep the bright, phosphorescent 
rays of the mid-winter's moon from pierc- 
ing its weather-beaten sides. But, like 
gentle Contentment gliding into the dark 
places of life, even so do these soft rays 
penetrate the awe-inspiring blackness, and 
gleam with a tender light in the shadow of 
the mill. 

At its side, cowed and silenced by the 
mighty powers of the Frost King, the giant 

water-wheel glistens with a greenish light 
as though ready to burst its icy fetters. 
And gently dripping, dripping, dripping- 
over its sparkling rainment, the ice- 
narrowed stream wraps it in a shroud of 
purest white. 

On the opposite side, to the right of the 
mill, two long, gaunt trees, bereft of every 
spring-born leaf, stretch their naked, lean 
arms heavenward, grim reminders of win- 
ter's victory over spring. They slant their 
loftiness in long, dark, tapering shadows 
upon the wide waste of the meadows. 

These extend in unbroken whiteness as 
far back as the eye can reach, and seem to 
join the stream in its course to the mill- 

Here and there, in the darkness of the 
shadow of the mill, the frost covered grass- 
tips emit tiny, uncanny glints, like grin- 
ning imps reveling in their unholy deeds. 

But far up in the heavens, throwing the 
dismal scene below into bold relief against 
its own brightness, is the benign, peaceful 
countenance of the full, winter's moon. 
Having leaped from a bank of misty gray 
clouds, and dropped its haze before it, it 
pours a flood of light over all. 

Sara Messing, '98. 



PROPHET is not without honor 
save in his own countiy," is appli- 
cable more or less to our High 
School, for I fear that many of us fail to 
appreciate the excellence of our Indianapo- 
lis school system, and in particular the ad- 
vantages of our own institution. 

Dr. Rice, a writer in The Forum, pro- 
nounced our schools the best in the land 
and held them up as a model for all 



Lately, their superiority has been es- 
pecially emphasized by many of the super- 
intendents who visited our city and were 
very much delighted with all that they had 
seen and heard here. 

Their reports were tilled with praise for 
our schools. One man from Massachusetts, 
in the course of his report said: "The 
schools of Indianapolis, in the opinion of 
several observers competent to judge, are 
among the best, if not the very best, of 
the country. Their manifest superiority, 
in my opinion, is mainly due to three 
things — close supervision, unity of purpose, 
aim and etf'ort, and, growing out of these 
two, a remarkably strong professional 
spirit among the teachers." 

Many of the visitors even wrote to our 
superintendent expressing their great satis- 
faction with the schools. Despite the many 
lectures received daily by the pupils, even 
the venerable seniors, about their "dis- 
graceful conduct," one letter from West 
Virginia said: "I was pleased with the 
lack of effort and restraint; also with the 
ease of expression of the pupils and their 
uniform good behavior." 

One man from Ohio was so delighted 
with what he saw here that he wrote, ask- 
ing the privilege of bringing a party of 
teachers " upon a pilgrimage to the Indian- 
apolis shrine." 

Helen Ernestinoff, '97. 


1 I I HAT was the score yesterday, any- 
\XJ body know? Six to nothing in 
our favor? A Avhitewash. That's 
fine — we've lost only one game so far. 
That makes our per cent. .833. We're 
still a good distance in the lead. Who 

pitched, do you know ? Phillips? He has 
been pitching a good game this season, but 
I wish we had kept Damman. Heard how 
he has been comporting himself witli Cin- 
cinnati ? Been carrying off all the laurels. 
I'll take another cup of coffee, if you 
please. What did you say? Yes, it does 
seem funny. To think of Columbus, 
always one of the tail-enders, holding 
second place. How they must be hugging 
themselves ! Poor old Grand Rapids hasn't 
won a game yet. We go to Detroit to- 
morrow, don't we? I'll bet we take three 
out of the four, unless it rains. I liear 
Detroit's entered a kick for that game 
Ebright forfeited to us. Another roll, 

Robert Ransdell, '99. 


(Being shortliaiid notes o'' the breakfast till < of a hap])y 

Paterfamilias and Doctor Oldboy dis ussing politics. Ma- 
terfamilias, Dot and Lou (just outi talking millinery ami the 

late t styles. Tommy (base ball tiend) gorsing himself unob- 

PATER: Yes, as I was saying. Doctor, 
if Greece could send one gunboat 
past the cordon she'd end the war. 

Doctor (abstractedly) : Yery true, very 

Mater: Really, Dot, I think you ought 
to wear your blue. Y^ou don't know how 
much more becoming it is. 

Pater: As Lew Wallace says, Turkey 
can't put up a vessel to oppose them. 
What's the matter, girls ? 

Dot: Oh, papa, we've got to go to that 
horrid dinner to- morrow ! 

Lou: Y^es, and we haven't a thing to 

Doctor: Yery appropriate, I'm sure. 

Dot: I don't know what we'll do. 



Pater: Do? Why, do what you did 
j^esterdii}' ; I think you were out at a ball 
or soniethiug. 

Loii: Oh, l>ut that was a luncheon, and 
you can't wear the same things to a dinner 
that you do to a luncheon, you know. 

Pater. All! I see. But wlio were there 
yesterday ? 

Dot: Well, Mrs. Markbam was one, 
then Janey and — 

Pdter : Begin at the beginning, my 
dear, and tell me how you sat at table. 

Toynmy (at the top of his voice) : Yes, 
bei'e's yer only oflicial score card ; position 
an' battin' order of each an' ev'ry player! 

Lou: Tom, do be quiet; go on, D(.»t. 

Dot : Well, Georgette sat next to me on 
my right, then came Janey Bare, then — 
let me see ; I forget who sat next to Janey. 
Oh, yes; Mrs I*erry Mason. 

Milter : What did she have on ? 

Dot: Notljing pretty. That reminds 
me, mother, what shall we wearto-morrow ? 

Mater: Well, your organdie dosen't 
look bad; with a little pressing, don't you 
think it might do ? 

IjOU: Oh! by no means. None of the 
girls are going to wear light things. 

Pater (to the Doctor): Still, if Greece 
is patriotic — 

Mater: You might fix ir. Dot. 

Pater: They might stand some show 
with their Krupp guns and their navy. 
Don't you think so. Doctor? 

Doctor (bewildered) : Oh, certainly, cer- 
tainly, if they get their gowns in time. 

Dot: And tliat blue shirt waist would 
match with — ■ 

Pater: The Turks are perfectly capa- 

Lou: Oh! I saw the sweetest gown — 

Tomrrij/ : And when he knocked the 
home run and brought in — 

Pater: Besides which, new levies are 
being made — 

Dot : Let's get them at Wasson's. 

(Here the stenographer fainted, and this 
is what the rest sounded like) : 

I still think your blue would match 
with — The gunboats sent out by Prince 
George — And he caught him out dead 
easy, and got the ball in home in time for 
— Tlje dance at the Patterson's, who — 
Were terribl}' emaciated on account of 
frontier <luty — And she had the dearest 
little hat — Doctor you know I always said 
— He's the best man on the nine. 

(And so on for thi-ee-quarters of an 


ONE dark and gloomy morning in May, 
I was aroused from a deep sleep by the 
impatient command of my father "to 
arise," that breakfast was ready. I did not 
stir, pretending not to hear; but tlie call 
was repeated, which he emphasized by the 
throwing of a shoe 

I reluctantly arose, and likewise dressed. 
Going down stairs, I fouml the rest of the 
famil}'- already eating. 

" What have you got to eat?" I asked in 
no kind tone. 

" Oh, we have eggs, coffee, ham and bis- 
cuits," my motber replied. 

" You know I don't like ham ; and don't 
you suppose a fellow gets tired of eggs 
sometimes ?" I hotly answered back, bav- 
ins: ffot out the wrong side of bed. 

"Ijet him go without," my father said, 
knowing well enough that I would not do 

" I don't want any breakfast, anyway," 
I stubbornly declared, getting a little 

Nothing was said for a time, everybody 
eating but me, and seeming unconscious of 
my presence, making me feel more hungry 
than I really was. 



"0 well, you can go and cook me one of 
those old eggs," 1 sheepishly said to my 

"If you want them cooked, you will do 
it yourself. I ofi'ered to do it once for you," 
she replied. 

So I went to the kitchen and began the 
novel experiment. While in the midst of 
my work, the cries of ray baby brother rose 
above the noise I was making. 

" Oh ! now you have gone and awakened 
that baby," my mother provokingly ex- 
claimed, rushing upstairs. But I did not 
care. I had obtained my revenge. 

As to the egg, it was a decided success; 
and J resolved in the future to be a bach- 
elor and cook my own eggs. 

Paul VVimkgs, '00. 


THE City of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 
is a favorite one of the Chinese, who 
show their thrift by going to a place 
where their prosperity is insured. Pitts- 
burgh is known as the " Smoky City," and 
among the most thriving and prosperous 
of its industries is the laundry business, 
which is largely under the control of the 

These worthy " washees " have organized 
a mutual benefit society, which, in some 
respects, resembles the Odd Fellows or 
Knights Templar. When any member of 
this lodge goes to join his revered ances- 
tors, the whole body turn out to aid him in 
his last journey, their one aim being to ap- 
pease the wrath of malignant deities. I, 
like others, led by American curiosity, once 
attended the funeral of a Chinaman who 
held an important position in the order. 
There were at this funeral Chinese person- 
ages from all parts of the country. Their 
procession, which, with its bright colored 

banners and streamers, resembled an Amer- 
ican patriotic parade, was led by a distin- 
guished Chinaman on horseback. He was 
followed by carriages containing the mourn- 
ers, each of whom wore a white band of 
cloth across his breast, white being the 
mourning color of the Celestials. Each 
man seemed to be the counterpart of every 
other one. To our eyes there seemed to 
be no individuality in their yellow com- 
plexions, the sloping eyes, and the long 
queues wound around the back of the 
head Each was clad in a loose jacket and 
another garment which was a cross be- 
tween trousers and petticoat. 

Our attention was iirst attracted by the- 
little pieces of red printed paper which 
were pasted on the carriages and scattered 
with profusion along the route. On in- 
quiry, we found these to be bills on the 
bank of Heaven, intended to tempt Plis 
Satanic Majesty from pursuing the spirit 
of the defunct Chinaman. We were im- 
pressed by the lack of silence and apparent 
solemnity, for the incessant cries and direc- 
tions of those who were superintending the 
funeral sounded, to our unaccustomed ears, 
like the confusion of Babel. 

When the grave was reached, the dead 
was laid to rest amidst those discordant 
noises that constitute Chinese music. A 
fire was then built near the grave, on which 
were laid all the possessions of the de- 
ceased, and provisions enough to last him 
on his journey. These latter consisted of 
several boxes of oranges and quantities of 
rice. At this part of the ceremony, the 
Chinese funeral directors were interrupted 
by an unlooked-for disturbance. Some 
American boys,'^ho were among the spec- 
tators, did not believe in sacrificing to the 
dead things that were so acceptable to the 
living, and attempted to rescue the fruit 
from the five. It was only with the aid of 
several policemen that the ceremony was 


allowed to proceed. All the banners that 
were carried in the parade and some mock 
money were then consumed. 

In seven years from the time of his 
burial the friends of the dead man will 
gather all that is mortal of him and send 
it to Cliina, for, in accordance with an old 
Chinese superstition, the Celestials be- 
lieve that his spirit will not rest unless his 
dust is under the sod of his native country 
near the ashes of his revered ancestors. 
Meta Seeqmiller, '99. 


N the United States at present there are 
three tribes of gypsies, the Romayo, 
Exeter and Tuxedo, of which the Ra- 
mayo is the most powerful. They are gov- 
erned by a king or queen, as the case may 
be, and they possess a code of laws. One 
of their rules is that on the tirst of April 
in every year, all the tribes shall meet at 
some place of rendezvous in order to plan 
the line of march for the following year. 
Growing out of this law another one has 
been established, which requires that in 
case the king or some other member of the 
roj^al family dies, he shall be buried in 
the presence of the whole tribe on the first 
day of April, which they call "Judgment 

The gypsies were brought into public 
notice in the year '95, by the death of the 
queen of the Romayos, Mrs. Anderson, 
who was an old Avoman sixty-five years of 
age. Immediately upon her death, which 
occurred in November, she was conveyed 
to Evansville, her nominal home. By some 
skillful process, the gypsies managed to 
keep her body in a fair state of preserva- 
tion until the day of burial, which, accord- 
ing to gypsy law, would be the first of 
April, 1896. 

As early as February, the gypsies began 
to assemble in Evansvi le from all direc- 
tions ; and when the burial day arrived, 
the town Avas thronged with people — not 
only gypsies, but also strangers, Avho came 
attracted by the novel spectacle, as Avell as 
by excursion rates, by boat and by rail- 
way. Everywhere there Avas a bustling 
activity. The Exeter gypsies could be 
seen carrying on a thriving business telling 
fortunes and selling trinkets. The Ro- 
mayos, a somewhat better class, do not 
engage in these trades, their sole occupa- 
tion l)eing horse-trading, Avhich is the only 
thing in Avliich they Avill cheat or steal. 

About eleven o'clock in the morning, a 
croAvd of us boys rode out to the Romayo 
camp Avhose hushed stillness presented a 
marked contrast to the busy activity of the 
Exeters. We found the entire campus sur- 
rounded by a rope fence. Greatly dis- 
appointed, Ave Avere about to return home 
when Ave met an obliging and intelligent 
gypsy boy who offered to shoAv us the 
gypsy mode of living. 

The camp, arranged in the form of a 
semi-circle, consisted of the ordinary 
canA'as tents in front of each of which 
there Avas a fiagstaff ; hoAvever, the interior 
of these was iar more inviting than the ex- 
terior. The walls Avere hung Avith silken 
draperies of bright red and yellow, and in- 
stead of chairs the floor Avas strewn with 
cushions. But, struck by an unpleasant 
odor which arose from the bear's fat, Avhich 
the Avoraen used on their hair, Ave soon left 
the tents and were then shown to the horse- 

We found the horses to be fine thorough- 
breds, Avell taken care of. We also ob- 
served that the Avagons Avere quite roomy 
and comfortable. Having shoAvn us these 
things, the gypsy boy, looking at the 
shadoAVS of the sun, told us that it Avas 
tAvelve o'clock. Thanking him for his 



kindness, we were about to return home to 
dinner when he invited us to stay and see 
the ceremonies which were soon to be per- 

We followed him to the middle of the 
camp, where the queen's possessions were. 
Here the gypsies congregated, and the 
Avomen began to murmur and chant. The 
queen's son then came forward and offered 
up a prayer, after which he went to his 
mother's wagon and lighted a lire under it. 
The gypsy boy explained that it was cus- 
tomary to burn the possessions of the dead, 
and also to turn the horses loose upon the 
plain — a custom of which he did not ap- 
prove. Meanwhile the women Avere chant- 
ing and beating their tambourines to drown 
the noise of the tire. 

Wlien we Avere leaving this scene, our 
gypsy friend told us to come to Oak Hill 
Cemetery at 3 o'clock in the afternoon to 
Avitness the burial services. 

Accordingly, after dinner Ave went to the 
cemetery. Reaching it about 2 o'clock, 
Ave found that there Avere already several 
thousand people there. Some Avere sittiog 
on tombstones, others Avere up in trees, and 
a great many Avere even standing on the 
graves. I noticed an old soldier perched 
upon a cannon The crowd pressed on to 
the newly made grave, Avbich Avas sur- 
rounded by thick ropes. Suddenly these 
ropes broke, and in theAvild stampede which 
followed, a little boy Avas trampled upon by 
the crowd. He Avas lifted up and passed 
over the heads of the vast throng. 

Finally, about 4 o'clock, the burial pro- 
cession made its Avay to the grave. A min- 
ister then read a simple service, and a 
quartette from one of the city churcbes 
sang hymns. The queen being a Christian, 
had requested Christian ceremonies to be 
held. So that, aside from the gaudy dress 
of the gypsies, there Avas nothing different 
from an ordinary Christian burial. The 

croAvd was greatly disappointed because 
its expectations of beholding something 
weird were frustrated. 

As we left the cemetery, Ave saAv the Ex- 
eter gypsies filed along both sides of the 
road, offering for sale pictures of the dead 
queen. After this, the gypsies packed all 
their belongings in the Avagons and pro- 
ceeded on their various journeys through- 
out the country. 

Victor Keene, '98. 


6 ( 



UN CAN! Duncan's the man," 
chorused several boys, members ot 
the Fardale Military Academy. " He 
is the best skater in school and can not be 
beat." Felix Duncan had just entered tlie 
school the previous year, but Avas one of 
the most popular boys in the Avhole acad- 
emy, though only a sophomore. He Avas a 
A^ery fine athlete and took the lead in nearly 
all of the athletic sports, especially in skat- 

The Fardale Military Academy had re- 
ceiA'Cd a challenge that morning from the 
Pembrook High School, asking for a race 
between a representative of each school, 
the time and course to be the choice of the 
academy, only restricting them to the lake. 
The schools Avere situated upon the oppo- 
site banks of Lake Eagle in one of our 
northern States, and were about five utiles 
distant from each other. 

There had been a great and rather bitter 
rivalry between the two schools as long as 
Jamieson could remember, and he Avas the 
oldest member of the school, and was re- 
garded by the other boys Avith a sort of 
reverence. It had existed when he entered 
the school, and seemingly grcAA" more bitter 



from 3'ear to year, and was in no manner 
lessened by the several victories gained by 
the Academy boys over their rivals in ath- 
letic contests. The High School now, 
seemingly wishing to repair their reputa- 
tion and triumph over their former suc- 
cessful rival, had sent this cliallenge. 

For this reason, the boys had been sum- 
moned by Jamieson to assemble immedi- 
ately after school in the gymnasium to 
select tlieir champion and make necessary 
arrangements. We have seen that Felix 
seemed to be the choice of the majority of 
the boys, and after a short discussion he 
was chosen to represent their school. They 
decided to have the course extend be- 
tween the two schools, starting from the 
Academy and finishing in front of the High 
School, the time to be New Year's afcer- 
noon if the weather was favorable. 


New Year's Day opened bright and clear, 
no wind blowing, but very cold and invig- 
orating; an ideal day for a match. Every- 
thing was in a hubbub around the scliool, 
and confusion reigned everywhere. 

Felix had spent an liour or so on the ice 
during the morning in going over the 
course. This was in an excellent condi- 
tion, though he noticed a stretch of a liun- 
dred yards or so of rough ice about three- 
quarters of a mile from the goal. 

The time for the race was drawing near 
and Fardale as a body had come out to 
cheer and urge their champion on to vic- 
tory. The Pembrook boj's had just driven 
up in their dail}^ decorated cutters and had 
so collected around their champion that it 
was impossible to distinguish him from the 
others. However, when the schools were 
called to present their champions, the 
throng quickly separated and a tall, slim, 
but well-built young man, clad in knicker- 

bockers and the long runner racing skate, 
and with the red and black colors pinned 
to the bosom of his sweater, glided grace- 
fully up to the starting line. He was an 
entire stranger to all of the boys and a 
glance of doubt flashed from the eyes of 
several. However, Felix, who was clad 
similarly to his rival, but with the green 
and gold flying from his sweater, took his 
place by the side of the Pembrook cham- 
pion. As the two skaters were bending over 
the starting line eagerly waiting for the pis- 
tol shot, they presented a pretty picture of 
youth. Eagerness and enthusiasm were 
stamped on their faces. Felix was the 
shorter of the two and a year or so younger. 
He was seemingly ill at ease, and did not 
handle himself as gracefully as his rival, 
though one would judge that he possessed 
the greater endurance. Botli had poised 
themselves over the line ready for the re- 
port, at which they were ofl: like arrows ; 
the Pembrook champion taking the lead 
by a full yard. This called forth a ringing 
cheer from the Pembrook boys, who, with 
the Fardale boys, followed them up in their 
cutters, eagerly watching their progress 
and cheering their respective chamjtions. 
During the first mile, Felix lost another 
yard and great was the consternation and 
fear of his fellow students. At the end of 
the third mile, however, he was only a yard 
and a half behind his rival, and during the 
fourth mile he came up within a half of a 
yard of him, and then could seemingly 
gain no more During the fifth mile they 
entered the rough stretch which Felix had 
observed that morning. Here, to the great 
horror of the Fardale boys, he suddenly 
swerved from the direct path and took a 
passage which his keen eye had observed 
in going over before. Although longer and 
more devious than the direct route, it was 
much smoother and he could make better 
time. His rival, on striking this poor ice, 



perceptibly slackened his pace, and upon 
emerging from it, the two skaters were neck 
to neck, but Felix having the greater mo- 
mentum on emerging, gained a trilie. 

The Fardale boys now saw into the trick 
of their champion and became wild from 
excitement, sending out cheer after cheer. 
The skaters were now doing their utmost, 
each striving to reach the goal first. The 
crowd was breathlessly watching their 
efforts. Felix was leading his rival by 
a quarter of a yard, and was gaining 
inch by inch, and as the two flew over the 
line, he was a full half yard in advance. 
Tlie Fardale boys set up a great cheer, 
intensified, perhaps, from the fact that they 
had thought the race was lost when Felix 
had made the supposed blunder. Jamieson 
and some of the older boys caught him up 
and placed him on their ^boulders, and 
three rousing cheers were given for Dun- 
can. When he had been set down, the 
Pembrook champion skated up to him. 
"Allow me to congratulate you," he said, 
"for 3'ou have fairly and honorably beaten 
the state champion. My name is Henry 
Brafford." A small thrill of amazement 
broke out when the boys heard this name, 
for they had all heard of the mere youth 
who had won the state championship the 
preceding season He had entered the 
Pembrook High School Ijut a short time 
before, and as the students there wished to 
retrieve some of tlieir I'ornier misfortunes, 
they had sent out this challenge and kept 
it secret that Eratibrd had joined their 
school, thinking that the Fardale boys 
would refuse to accept the challenge if 
they knew that they would have to skate 
against the state champion. Again an 
echoing cheer was sent out upon the clear 
air. Duncan was the hero of the hour, for 
he had not only brought another victory to 
the Academy, but also the golden cup 
which Brafford necessarily had to give up, 

as he had been fairly beaten in a challenge 

The race was the talk for days, and if a 
student enters the Fardale Military Acad- 
emy even now, although this happened a 
good many years ago, he is sure to hear 
very soon about "Felix Duncan and the 
Golden Cup." 

Chas. Scott, '97. 


j^"IIE surroundings influence th 
vj acter.'' If this be true, thos 

the char- 
■)se boys 

and girls who are fortunate enough 
to pass through the corridor of the High 
School so many times during their attend- 
ance there, should be better for it. 

Let us visit it and see what we shall find. 
Through the west door, we enter a square 
hall, and on our right, the light reveals a 
copy of "The Shepherdess," by Millet. 
There are the sheep huddled together in a 
large field and guarded by a young girl in 
a peasant costume. 

"A single hay cart down the dusty road 
Creaks slowly, with its driver fast asleep 
On the load's top." 

We turn away from the beauty of nature, 
to view on the opposite wall the noble face 
of one who loved her passionately — Agas- 
siz ! 

" All who gazed upon him saw 
How his face was still uplift 
By the old sweet look of it ; 
Hopeful, trustful, fall of cheer, 
And the love that casts out fear." 

Turning to tlie left, we now enter the 
mam hall. The bust of Charles Darwin 
occupies one of the most conspicuous places 
in the corridor. How appropriate that one 
should turn from the face of the naturalist 
and meet that of the equally great scientist. 



It seems as if those who placed his bust 
here thought it was enough for that side 
of the hall, or they are waiting for some 
other genius to take the vacant place and 
help light the future generations. Who 
shall say ? 

On one side of the library door is the 
bust of Franklin. How near Fate has 
placed it to the very books he coveted 
when living. Ap- 

On the other side, is the bust of Lincoln, 
and what pen can portray the light 
of the cheery disposition which plays 
over his rugged features ? The whole face 
shows strength and purpose. Of his glori- 
ous work we have all read, and there is no 
place in the school that is too conspicuous 
for this bust, and no school is complete 
without it. 

A little farther down is the bust of 

Whom the rich heavens did so endow 
With eyes of power and Jove's own brow, 
With all the massive strength that fills 
Thy home horizon's granite hills, 
New England's stateliest type of man, 
In port and speech Olympian; 
Sweet with persuasion, eloquent 
In passion, cool in argument." 

Those who have read Emerson's works 
with such keen delight will be glad to meet 
his face next. How well the subtle nature 
has been carved, and that head shows him 
to be a profound thinker. 

But our list is not complete without this 
fresh young face to which we now turn. 
Hamilton ! The face is full of bright, ani- 
mated life, and there is a noble expression 
on it which shows that its owner w^ould 
scorn to do a mean deed or speak an un- 
true word. 

And now, our visit over, we turn away, 
feeling well repaid and wishing the boys 
and girls of this school every success. 

Edna F. B. Gilmore, "00. 


IT is not in the beauty of architecture 
that the charm of our corridor lies. Its 
walls are extremely plain, but the gray 
monotony is broken here and there by 
a bust or portrait of some renowned 
man, whose memory arouses in the mind- 
thoughts both pleasant and profitable. I 
can not look upon these -works of art with- 
out thinking how^ they came here. We 
owe these pleasures to the generosity and 
public spirit of pupils and teachers of our 
own school. 

There is the gift of the June class of 
'97, Millet's beautiful picture " The Shep- 
herdess," that meets our eye immediately 
on entering. We next come upon a gift of 
the class of '96, a bust of Ralph Waldo 
Emerson, which calls back the memory of 
his w^orthy life. The faces of Agassiz and 
Darwin are as yet slightly familiar to me, 
but their presence has awakened in me a 
desire to become acquainted with the works 
of men so highly honored. The portrait 
of Hamilton and the busts of Franklin,. 
Webster and Lincoln, gifts of the civil 
cfovernment classes, are also here. The 
thoughts and feelings they arouse are quite 
different from the others. Their presence 
calls to my mind the different conditions 
of our country, in which they all took a 
prominent part, — the war of the Revolu- 
tion, which brought with it our freedom, 
and the civil war, which blotted out the 
disgraceful institution of slavery. The 
memory of their noble, active lives gives us 
a feeling of patriotism and pride, pride in 
our country that produced these great men, 
and pride in our high school that gives sO' 
much attention to their memory. 

Dorothea May, '00. 



[Adapted from the Prologue to " The Canterbury Tales."] 

When April with her dewy smiles 

Has routed grim and blustering March, 
And Zephyr, using all her wiles, 

Her silvery voice, her glances arch, 
Plas summoned forth on hill and vale 

A tender, fresh luxuriance; 
And when the sun in gleaming mail 

Shines with a youthful radiance. 
When starting sap has mounted high, 

And songbirds make the welkin ring, 
Feeling in earth and sea and sky 

A thrilling pulse, the life of Spring ; 
Then hopes to man the season brings 
For higher, truer, nobler things. 

Andrea Ferguson, '98. 


TEMPLETON" was a neat little village 
of about two thousand inhabitants in 
the central part of Illinois. It was 
in a rich section of the country, and was, 
all in all, a prosperous town. It was within 
this little hamlet that the subject of this 
serio-comic epistle dwelt. 

Mr. Stars was the owner of a small 
grocery, from which he gained his only 
means of livelihood. He was a selfish, 
(juick-tempered and deceitful man, but he 
was not a bad man, for he belonged to the 
Honorable Town Board, and was a great 
and mighty man in his sphere (but the 
truth of the matter was, his sphere was 
very small). 

Mr. Stars was not in good standing with 
the boys of the village. They looked upon 
him with hatred and contempt, but they 
were not ahead of him on this point, for 
the feeling was mutual, and was likely to 
remain so for some time. 

The Christmas holidays had come and 
the boys were free. By their actions it 

could be judged that they were making 
the most of their freedom. 

On the last day of the year, the boys 
were, as usual, in Mr. Stars' grocery, and, 
in some manner, accidentally overturned 
a barrel of apples. The groceryman was 
angry, and he took each boy by the coat 
collar, shook him and put him out of the 
store. Mr. Stars went at this work sys- 
tematically, taking the boy nearest him 
and shaking him until he reached the 
door. The farther a boy was from the 
door, the more shakes he received, and con- 
sequently when he got to the last of the 
boys they were pretty near the door. 

Yet he was not satisfied, but went home 
and said to his wife : 

" Martha, I have again been troubled 
greatly by the boys. ISTow, I am going to 
stop this nuisance." 

" You go and state the case to their 
parents, and let them decide the matter," 
answered his wife. 

"I have already consulted their parents, 
and it does not have any effect. I must 
begin a regular war, and immediately, 
too," replied her husband. 

JSTow, that being the last day of the year, 
the groceryman knew the boys would, by 
custom, ring out the old and ring in the 
new year with the village church bell. 

There had been a funeral in the church 
that day, so Mr. Stars decided to scare the 
boys by placing a ghost in the church. 

He succeeded, after some difficulty, in 
fixing a very respectable looking ghost that 
was enough to frighten any one in broad 
day, still more, of in a country church 
at midnight. 

About eleven o'clock, he took the ghost 
to the church, crawled in at a window and 
set it near the door. As he went to get 
out, he slipped from the window and fell to 
tlie fioor. He found he was so badly hurt 
he could not rise. He cried for help, but 



ill vain, for no one was near, so lie decided 
to wait until the boys came. He would 
then state the case to them and they would 
take him home. He wondered how they 
would get in, but this need not have 
worried him, for they, not being as stupid 
as he was, had procured a key. 

He was sufi'ering intense pain and it 
seemed a week before he heard the key in 
the door, and the voices of the boys on the 
outside. Finally the door was thrown 
open and the boys stepped in. His pain 
was so great that he could not refrain from 
uttering a groan, and about that time the 
boys caught sight of the ghost and, with 
a terrified shriek, rushed out of the church 
and down the street. 

His wife, after awhile, became fright- 
ened about him and had a searching party 
to hunt her husband. They found him 
where he had fallen, unconscious and nearly 
dead from the injury and exposure. 

He was taken home, and, after a linger- 
ing illness, died. And still the boys gather 
in that little grocery and still they ring out 
the old and ring in the new year with the 
old church bell, but they have never before 
or since met the gaze of such a ghostly ap- 
parition as they met that new year's night. 
- ' ■ Cleg Hunt, '00. 


5 HE RE was once a little boy who was 
very mischievous, and was always 
teasing his sister, l^ow, Jimmie's 
sister, Susan, had been engaged to marry a 
Mr. Travers for about three years. Every 
time something turned up to prevent the 

One day Susan called Jimmie to her and 
said : "Jimmie, Mr. Travers and I are 
going to be married next week, and you 
will have to deliver the invitations." 

Susan and her mother studied over it 
and considered who they should invite. 

"I'll not invite the Maloney family, be- 
cause the girls made fun of me, nor I won't 
invite old Mr. Wilkinson, because you 
know, mamma, he came here once with one 
boot and one slipper on. But let us invite 
every one else we know. Let me see ; that 
will make about three hundred invitations 
for Jimmie to carry," said Susan. 

Jimmie had a printing press, and thought 
the matter all over very carefully at school 
and decided to print invitations himself, 
"N"ow, I've got some of that new paper; 
I'll just print on that; Susan will be awful 

So Jimmie, without ever asking Susan, 
went to work to print some bills. He 
posted them up in conspicuous places over 
the village. Jimmie went home, but forgot 
to tell Susan about them. 

No wonder she fainted when her father 
came home and showed her one of the bills. 

" Susan," he said, " What does this mean, 
these things posted up all over the village? 
Everybody is stopping to read them." 

Jimmie skipped out to the postoffice. 
Susan read the bills. They read this way : 

" Miss Susan Brown announces that she 
will marry Mr. James Travers at church 
next Thursday, at half-past seven (7:30) 

"All the friends of the family, with the 
exception of the Maloney tribe and old Mr. 
Wilkinson, are invited. 

" Come early and bring lots of flowers." 

Well, Jimmie could not imagine why 
Susan would not speak to him — why she 
wouldn't even look at him. Mr. Travers, 
too, always said Jimmie could live with 
them, but since printing those bills he 
hadn't mentioned it to him. 

Jimmie was sent off to boarding school. 
He has studied and studied, and he can't 
imagine why they were all so mad about 



those bills. " I know," said Jimmie, " that 
every word was spelled right, and the only 
thing that was the matter was I couldn't 
spell the name of the church, and I left that 
out purposely. But Susan ! She's like all 
the rest of the girls. Girls never do ap- 
preciate what us boys try to do for 'em. 

Never mind, her and old Jim Travers 'ill 
be sorry for the way they've treated me 
when I'm dead." 

Susan could not bear to think of being 
married there after Jimmie's conduct, so 
she and her betrothed went to New York 
and were married. Lizzie Maley, '00. 

The High School Annual. 

Publishied. eacli June, in tlie interests of the Indianapolis High 
School, by the nienrihers of the Senior Class. 









>HE High School Annual of '97 is now prepared to emhark in the vast sea of 

literary productions. Tlie Annual being a paper not unknown to the 

people who are interested in the progress of our scliools, we will state 

^.^,^ that this number has the same general plan as its predecessors. Its 

' "^'^v' purpose is to represent the work done in each department of the 

school so that it may give a fair general idea of the whole. The 

task of selecting the best representative is a difficult one because limited 

space makes it necessary to exclude many excellent articles. 

In order that you may not get the erroneous idea that the Annual 
consists of dry school exercises, we will inform you that it represents the 
school on a gala day when every one is at his best; the contributions are purely volun- 
tarly, thereby allowing free scope of imagination, originality and, in some cases, real talent. 
The ITigh School paper is a great factor in unifying the school, because it gives to all grades 
a common interest and thus a closer connection with each other ; they learn to feel a pride 
in the institution which can produce essayists, poets, humorists, scientists and artists. 

We feel that this number of the Annual has been very fortunate in several respects, 
especially in obtaining artistic designs; but, in striving to make it as attractive as pos- 
sible the expenses incurred have been greater than those of any previous Annual ; there- 
fore we trust that the public will, in a substantial way, show its appreciation of our 
efl'orts and not permit so valuable a paper to succumb to a hard fate because of a lack of 
generous patrons. Hoping that "its charms will strike the sight and its merit win the 
soul," we now present to you the annual of 1897. 


SHE same spirit of organization which has animated men through all successive 
ages has brought to life in our school many clubs and societies worthy of our con- 
sideration. Consideration — yes. For each numbers on its roll stars — students 
whose bright futures may soon be seen in the lofty constellations of a now dimmed 
heaven. The artillery of criticism has been brought into the field and, from its superior 
position on the hills of authority, its charges have been hurled against the so-called 
"organization craze." But all in vain — and Avhy? 

Organization necessarily implies contact with others, a sort of measuring one by 
another. If sometimes there is a rub in the meeting; if, perhaps, one can easily fill an- 
other's shoes, still there is no harm done. As a result of organization, there is an 
appreciation of one's own position and a rivalry intense enough to fan to flames the 
slumbering coals of latent ambition. The best and brightest students in the class-room 
are those who take active part in the proceedings of our high school organizations. 
The self-reliance and experience gained in those clubs and societies places them head 
and shoulders above their more slothful fellow-students — it makes leaders of them. 
The organization gives the student a chance to train and prepare himself in the com- 
pany of a band of fellow-students, each of whom is his critic, his associate, his friend. 
It has been said that the best education is that derived from contact with the world. In 
this school-world of ours, little as it seems, broad as it is, what could be better than the 
contact of the student with persons whose work and aims are so similar to his own, but 
whose character, habits, and ideas are so different? And it is membership in the or- 
ganizations which opens for him the road to leadership. 

The only objection of importance ever brought against organizations is that too 
much time is consumed in matters not strictl}^ pertaining to the work of tlie school — 
that the student's attention is drawn from his studies. To a certain extent, the time 
spent on some clubs and societies is seemingly of no direct advantage to the school. 
Yet, the debating clubs and the literary societies have been the " ironsides " of the army 
of organization. No one has ever denied their benefits, not only to the members but to 
the school. Athletics are now a part of tlie school life of every young American, and 
their influence in widening the iN)ad to education is evidently felt if not recognized. 
The musical organizations are potent factors in refining the embryo tastes of studeuts 
with unaccountable dislikes to classical compositions. They all do their work — for the 
school, for the pupil — some silently and unseen, others with no little noise and on the 
public stage. The influence of all is beneficial to the whole student-body. No time 
can be termed wasted which is consumed in building stronger the very foundations of 
the school, for such the organizations are rightly named. The bare ground might alone 
have supported the building, but several clubs and societies similar in purpose to the 
ones just mentioned add strength and stability as well as attractiveness. 

THE longed-for dignity of being a senior has been reached at last ! And on that 
lofty pinnacle the triumphant student plumes himself in all his glory, to be gazed 
upon by the admiring eyes of freshmen and juniors. But with that dignity come 
crowding many conflicting thoughts of which he never dreamed; he realizes that life is 
flrst beginning for him, and his school days, which seemed interminable, are now regret- 


ted as "happy days gone by;"' the future stares him in the face with appalling nearness 
— his excelsior is by no means excelsissimas. Heretofore the years had no unusual im- 
portance for him — each successive one was but another turn of study. Secure in that 
thought, his going out into the world seemed far distant, but now it comes to him with 
a shock, as it were, and he begins to wonder what his school life has been to him and 
what it will be in the future. 

Some people have the idea that an advanced education is of no value unless one in 
tends to enter upon a professional life, but in a great republic like ours, Avhere every- 
thing depends upon the citizen, it is essential that that citizen be capal)le of performing 
the great responsibilities resting upon him, and these he can only perform intelligently 
liy having received an education. 

Probably the greatest good which knowledge imparts is the abolition of bigotry 
and narrow-mindedness, which has been the cause of so many persecutions, sufferings 
and wrongs. A knowledge of the great things which have been said and done in the 
world, so opens one's views to the vast truths that he loses sight of prejudice, localism, 
sectarianism, and fanaticism. The study of literature and history both tend to this 
broadening influence; literature introduces us to the different types of human nature as 
individuals — history, as nations. In studying the great movements in history and their 
results, one learns what has been a benefit to humanity and what has been detrimental. 
Thus, the citizen who possesses this knowledge of the past experience of the world will 
profit by it and save his country from again committing the same errors. If a new 
difficulty — a new crisis should present itself, tlien the citizen whose intellect has been 
(l^veloped, will have the power of reasoning a way through it; he will remember how 
he overcame an algebra problem, or a diflieult passage in Latin or Greek. The passage 
would lie before him, seeming nothing but "words, words, words;" in vain he would 
pore and pore over it — suddenly one little word would present a clue, and then the 
difficulty unraveled as if by magic. After this, there would be a sense of mastery and 
a feeling that the next danger would be easier to grapple with. 

Finally, education inspires one with a love for the beautiful, and this will lead a 
citizen to be anxious that his country should possess works of art, beautiful buildings, 
magnificent parks and well-paved streets. He will desire his country to advance with 
lofty and noble aims. Such citizens will place their nation in the van. 

IT HAS been said by those who doubtless know, that when a student has once at- 
tained unto that enviable and exalted state of dignity and superiority termed Senior- 
ship, he very hastily and conveniently loses all recollection of those former unhappy 
days of total obscurity, ignorance, and despised puerility that make life such a burden to 
the Freshman. But however true this may be found to a certain degree, it may be 
safely said of those of us present Seniors whose good fortune it was to sit in Miss Dye's 
room the first year, that they will never forget one incident at least that marked that 
period, which was the time when that dear, sociable spirit undertook to make the shy 
and backward Freshmen acquainted with one another. 


" Dear children," said she, with that refreshing little laugh of hers, " I hardly believe 
you know even the names of your near neighbors !" and she thereupon originated an in- 
genious little plan for promoting happy acf|uaintanceship among them, in Avhich she ar- 
ranged that the occupants of every seat in each alternate row should move forward one 
place at a time, and, after introducing themselves to those opposite them, should engage 
in conversation until she should give the signal to move again. 

That was, indeed, a memorable morning when the I'oom for fifteen minutes re- 
sounded with the incessant babble of voices, and "soft eyes" looked, all confusion and 
dismay, "to eyes which spake again." 

However, we who have so easily and readily learned all the languages and sciences 
that have been afforded ns, were certainly not slow to learn the beautiful lesson of so- 
ciability and good fellowship taught us by her who also impressed it upon our minds 

" Kind liearts are more than coronets, 
And simple faitli tlian Norman blood," 

And that our progressive conversation party was merely the first of the many sociable 
times that we as a class have enjoyed in the short and happy period we have been to- 
gether. Our course through High School has been a remarkably smooth and pleasant 
one. We naturally have had our little trials and vexatious ; there have been some dark 
days, when our horizon has been dimmed by small clouds of discouragement and dis- 
content, days when we have felt somewhat inclined to grumble and remark upon the 
hardness of our lot; but they have been few, and we forget them when we look back 
upon the many glad, bright days which have marked our course. We remember, 
especially, with pure delight, tliose occasions when we turned aside from the usual rou- 
tine of school work and, forgetting that there existed anything half so serious as al- 
gebra, Latin or Greek, assembled in the hall, teachers and students alike, to while away 
an afternoon in congenial entertainment ; in conversation, music, dancing and merry 
laughter. These entertainments did not divert our minds from our studies. We would 
return to our duties on the following Monday with earnest and thoughtful faces again, 
apparently as though nothing had happened; and yet there lurked a warmer spirit of 
goodfellowship in each heart and all felt the bond of sympathy and friendship existing 
between teachers and students to be a stronger and a firmer one. We are now about 
to turn our backs upon the school which has been the scene of our gladdest days of 
youth, and our faces toward the world to seek new spheres. Our course of life now 
changes; but as we bid farewell to our Alma Mater, it is with a spirit of gratitude for 
the many rare advantages we have received, for the kind, patient forbearance of our 
instructors, and also with a feeling of thankful appreciation for the many privileges we 
have been afforded and the good times we have enjoyed. We say farewell with hearts 
full of good-will to all our classmates and with fond memories of I. H. 8. that will never die. 













SHE Senior Debating Club of the 1. 11. S. 
was reorganized September 24, 1896. 
From the first there has been unusual 
interest and enthusiasm shown by all the 
members. Every Friday afternoon for 
more than seven months, we Seniors have 
been accustomed to meet together to dis- 
cuss the current topics of the day, and to 
hear from our silver-tongued orators the 
orations of Demosthenes, Webster, Pitt, 
and Burke. We have found no subject 
beyond the comprehension of our imma- 
ture and undeveloped minds. With the 
greatest assurance, we have solved the most 
difficult political problems of our age, dis- 
cussed important educational questions, 
and have reached satisfactory conclusions 
concerning moral ethics. Not only have 
the leaders in the debate responded gener- 
ously to their duty, but the general discus- 
sions have been both interesting and 
spirited, and have elicited great praise 
from our able and conscientious critic, 
Mrs. Huftbrd. 

" The Budget," our far-famed paper read 
by one of the members before the club 
once a month, has been the source of un- 
told good in bringing out the literary 
merits of its contributors, and in raising, 
if only for a short time, the minds of those 
present above the common plane of thought 
into realms truly sublime. The several 
editors have, with but little ditiiculty, been 
able to keep up the standard of the paper, 
it being a strictly literary production. We 
are all grateful to the members of the club 
who at so early an age, realize that they 
should allow their ingenuity to display 
itself, and should give to the world 
thoughts of such universal value. But 
more grateful are we for the immortal 
verses and never-to-be forgotten witti- 

cisms. The club has not only been a 
benefit m bringing to light politicians, 
philosophers, and orators by its debates, 
and poets, humorists and prose writers b}^ 
the paper, but has been the source of 
much pleasure and friendly intercourse. 
And we trust that the club will liold as 
fond memories for the succeeding classes 
as it does for the Seniors of '97. 


I IKE Tennyson's " Brook," organizations 
L may come and may go, but the PI. S. 

Senate goes on forever. Many clubs 
and societies have appeared on the H. S. 
horizon, to be swallowed up in the gloom 
of oljlivion, but the H. S. Senate has been 
a tower of strength to the goddess of or- 
ganization. Like a giant oak, she has sent 
forth twigs which have developed into 
mighty branches, but which still bear a 
filial love to their mother. Truly, the Sen- 
ate is the Gibraltar of High School organ- 

Never has the H. S. Senate enjoyed a 
more prosperous year than that of 1896- 
'97. Interesting bills have been intro- 
duced, thrilling speeches have been made, 
debates and oratorical contests have been 
successfully conducted. 

The year began by the election of Sena- 
tor Davis (L. B. Davis) as President, and 
Senator Palmer (F. Olsen) as Secretary. A 
bill repealing Sunday laws was introduced 
by Senator Perkins (R. Spohr). Without 
hesitation, it may be said that it aroused 
more interest and called forth more orator- 
ical eftbrt than any other bill in the Sen- 
ate's history. A Government railroad-pur- 
chase bill was defeated. 

At the second election. Senator Davis 
was re-elected President, and Senator Nel- 
son (E. Brown) Secretary. 



Many minor bills were either passed or 
defeated. After many heart-rending ap- 
peals from Senator Pettigrew (M. Sayles), 
the Sunday bill was overwhelmingly de- 

Senator Perkins was the third President, 
and Senator Mantle (G. Hooker) Secretary. 
An attempt was made to impeach the 
President, but through the efforts of the 
President's counsel, Senators Piatt (P. Hib- 
ben). Chandler and Davis, he was acquitted 
on constitutional grounds. The Chief Jus- 
tice (Miss Donnan) presided, and the trial 
was noticeable for the numerous references 
to Blackstone, Cooley, and Hare. 

The fourth President was Senator Plill 
(F. W. Spencer) and the Secretary was Sen- 
ator Mantle. An amendment to the 
Constitution, providing for the election of 
the President for a long term of years, was 
buried under an avalanche of votes. 

Senator Chandler (C. G. Bowers) and 
Senator Palmer were fifth and sixth Presi- 
dents ; Senators Hill and Bate (H. Swain) 
Secretaries. Senator Davis' resolution, 
recognizing the independence of Cuba, was 
unanimously passed. A closely written, 
forty-page protective tariff bill was intro- 
duced by Senator Piatt, and after consider- 
able thoughtful discussion on the part of 
Senator Piatt and others, was passed by a 
large majority. 

The lirst annual inter- scholastic debate 
between the High and Industrial Training 
School was originated by the H. S. Senate. 
Senators Chandler, Tillman, Lodge and 
Davis represented the High School. The 
great enthusiasm aroused by the H. S. 
victory is described in another column. 

Great praise is due to Miss Donnan, 
whose painstaking and thoughtful criti- 
cisms have made the Senate what it is. 

Among the pleasant memories, the '97 
Class will carry with it, none will be 
more pleasant than those of the Senate. 

As we pause on the threshold of the old 
school we can not help recalling the many 
pleasant afternoons spent in the Senate. 
In after years, we shall look back upon the 
H. S. Senate as being one of the most 
potent forces in shaping the devious and 
winding paths of our lives. 


DURIjSTG the publication of the " Silent 
Spectator," the editors suggested the ad- 
visability of organizing a High School 
State Oratorical Association similar to that 
existing among the different colleges of 
the State. The hearty approbation of most 
prominent schools led to the appointment 
of F. W. Spencer as president of a tempo- 
rary organization, and throwing himself 
into the work with his characteristic en- 
ergy, he soon brought Richmond, Portland, 
Madison, Indianapolis and Plainfield into 
the association. The first contest was held 
in this city at Plymouth Church on the 
evening of May 21. The greatest possible 
enthusiasm prevailed throughout the even- 
ing, and yet no ill-feeling was engendered 
in consequence. 

The first speaker was Forest Cartwright, 
of Portland, who spoke on " Wendell 
Phillips." His earnestness, great reserve 
force and impressive personality had an 
excellent effect upon the audience. He 
was followed by Miss Juliette Hollings- 
worth, of Richmond, who, speaking upon 
"The Sick Man of Europe," captivated her 
hearers by her attractive personality and 
excellence of her production. Arthur E. 
Wooden, of Madison, spoke on " The ISTeed 
of the Hour." Mr. Wooden was followed 
by W. 0. Trueblood, of Plainfield, whose 
delivery failed to do justice to his speech 



upoii " The Power of the Extremist." Indi- 
anapolis was represented by Lawrence B. 
Davis, whose eloquent tribute to the 
memory of our ^reat martyr was listened 
to with the closest attention. His delivery 
was impressive and forcible, and by the 
judges on delivery he was given first place. 
The High School has no cause for com- 
plaint, nor has Mr. Davis any reason for 
discouragement. The first place was given 
to Portland, the second to Richmond, and 
the third to Indianapolis. C. G. B. 


f\ BOUT a year and a half ago Gen. Har- 
|l rison, in one of his articles in the 
' Ladies' Home Journal, said concern- 

ing the Fourth of July that the old-time 
spirit of patriotism was fast dying out. 
The people of the present time regard the 
Fourth simply as a cessation from labor 
and a day for fun, and do not consider its 
full significance. 

Acting upon this thought. Miss Donnan 
set out to form a society in the High School 
whose purpose should be to celebrate our 
Nation's Birthday. A committee was 
chosen from the Civil Government classes 
to draw up the constitution. The society 
was then organized and the first business 
meeting held February, 1896. Although 
only those who had taken Civil Govern- 
ment were eligible to membership, yet a 
large number attended. Mabel P. Schmidt 
was elected President for the year, and 
Elmer E. Scott, Secretary. At the busi- 
ness meeting this year, William A. Atkins 
was elected President and Mr. Scott re- 
elected as Secretary. 

The society held its first, and so far its 
only public meeting in Plymouth Church 

on last Fourth of July. Gen. Harrison 
had been asked to speak since it was his 
article which suggested such an organiza- 
tion, but as he was too busy, Mr. Charles 
F. Coffin made the address instead. All 
the music, both vocal and instrumental, 
was patriotic. The programme ended with 
"America," sung by the audience, and I am 
sure that every one felt his heart tlirill for 
his country as he heard those stirring exer- 
cises and saw his flag, the symbol of the 
Republic of Freedom and of Law, floating 
peacefully overhead. The officers of the 
society are at present engaged in arranging 
a programme for the celebration on the 
coming Fourth, and though it can not yet 
be announced they promise a good meet- 


T has long been a source of regret to the 
instructors and to such of the students 
as are really interested in geometry, 
that the present course in that study af- 
fords but little time for the solution of 
problems. From casual remarks let fall by 
some who are struggling through the 
course in required mathematics, it would 
not seem, however, that many tears are 
shed on this account. But, it was from the 
feeling that at least a few would become 
interested that the Mathematical Club was 
organized. Its roll of members is not 
large and its average attendance still less, 
but those who have attended regularly 
have derived much pleasure and profit 
thereby. The work undertaken by the 
Club may be divided into four divisions: 
the solution of original problems ; the 
history of mathematics ; some more ad- 
vanced subject not included in the curric- 
ulum of the school; a series of lectures 
by prominent mathematicians. The Club 


has taken up the study of Determinants as 
the advanced work and has brought Pro- 
fessor Waldo, of Purdue, to the school to 
lecture on "The Origin of Some of Our 
Common Mathematical Ideas." Professor 
Gregg, of Brazil, also visited the Club. 

The members have also made some at- 
tempt to secure recognition from the vari- 
ous mathematicians of the State by send- 
ing problems and solutions to the " Indiana 
School Journal." 

Surely, among nearly nine hundred stu- 
dents, there lies hidden a wealth of latent 
mathematical genius. We hope that in the 
future many more persons will avail them- 
selves of the privilege of becoming mem- 
bers of tlie Society. Who knows whether 
they may not be some undiscovered New- 
ton among the throng of under-graduates ? 
Hebbekt K. Wjley, '97. 


FOR the last two years the High School 
lias had a Chess Club, composed for 
the most part of members of the June 
Class of '97. Both in the spring of '96 and 
the spring of '97 a club tournament has 
been held. In '96 Mr. H. K. Fatout, of the 
February '97 Class, won the championship, 
with a percentage of over 82 per cent, to 
his credit. This year his percentage will 
be still higher, and he has already won the 
'97 championship, although closely fol- 
lowed by several other players. 

That the game is carefully studied is 
clearly demonstrated by the fact that Mr. 
Edward Dashiell, who won fourth place in 
the '96 tournament, succeeded in getting 
his name on the rolls of the Purdue Uni- 
versity Chess Club, and in due course of 
time, won for himself a good position in 
their tournament. 

The club meets every Saturday evening, 

and after a few rounds at chess, the evening 
is given over to social amusements. That 
expression, few rounds, means little to 
those who have never attended the ses- 
sions, but in the case of several members 
it implies about two to three hours of ac- 
tive mental attention. 

A special feature of this year's work was 
the tournament held with the Training 
School Chess Club. The players who con- 
tested in behalf of the High School were: 
H. K. Fatout, F. W. Spencer, A. B. Cham- 
bers and Leonard Cook. The contestants 
from the Training School were : W. Bal- 
lard, Felix Ballard, K. Lawrence and W. 
K"oelke. A total of thirty-two games were 
played, eight at a session. At the end of 
the first half of the tournament, the High 
School had nine out of sixteen games, a 
lead of two over their opponents. At the 
third session, the Training School got six 
out of eight, and as a result of continuous 
practice and close application, they suc- 
ceeded in repeating their success in the last 
session, making the final score credit the 
Training School with nineteen games and 
the High School with thirteen. W. Bal- 
lard won all eight of his games, and to his 
fine playing and mastery of the science of 
the game the High School in the main at- 
tributes its defeat. The other players, 
however, were all good players and the 
contest was close and well fought. Visitors 
from each school attended the sessions and 
took great pleasure in watching the prog- 
ress of the contest. 

The Chess Club is now a thing of the 
past, the last meeting having occurred on 
May 22. It was the first organization of 
its kind in the school, and it is to be hoped 
that the chess players of the other classes 
will recognize its benefits and reorganize 
it next year. Upon them falls the duty of 
restoring to the High School the chess 
championship of the Public Schools. 

^be 3oint 2)cbatc\ 

5 HE idea of a joint debate between 
the H. S. and I. T. S. Senates 

originated in the fertile minds 
of S. W. Manstield, F. W. Spencer 
and L. B. Davis, who visited the 
South Side institution and delivered 
the challenge, which was unanimously 
and enthusiastically accepted. The 
subject decided upon was : "Are We 
Ready for the Dismemberment ol 
Armies and for Submitting All In- 
ternational Questions to a Perma- 
nent Board of Arbitration?" The 
judges selected, who were to base 
their decision upon general impres- 
sion, were W. P. Pishback, H U. 
Brown and C. F. Coffin. Owing to 
the splendid auditorium of the Train- 
ing School, it was thought best to 
hold the contest in the enemy's coun- 
try, and to offset any disadvantages 
that might otherwise have arisen in 
consequence, tickets of admission were 
printed and equally divided between the two schools. The affirmative was represented 
bythe H. S. through its representatives, Lawrence Davis, G. L. Langsdale, C. Gr. Bowers 
and E. L. Talbert, while the negative was ably represented by the T. S. Speakers, 
H. Gwim, F. Ballard, A. Meng and II. 0. Stechan. Supt. D. K. Goss presided. The 
speakers, arriving a short time before the debate, took their seats at tables on the 
platform and were greeted with partisan applause. The artistic surroundings evidently 
lent their influence to the respective efibrts of the two schools. Emerging from behind 
the Venus de Medici, the H. S. orators, ever susceptible to tlie harmonious beauty of 
their environment, had their oratory tinged with the various hues of the upper 
heavens, whence the inspiring vision liad transported them, Avhile from the other 
side, the T. S. champions under the athletic influence of the discus thrower, impas- 
sionately sawed the air with their far-famed and brawny arms. During the debate, 
both sides were given the most courteous attention, and the conclusion of each speech 
was greeted on both sides by the most generous applause. In short, everything was 
harmonious and sweet. 

The speeches concluded, the judges retired, and after about fifteen minutes, Mr. 
Fishback, returning, whispered into the chairman's ear the result of their delibera- 
tions — so fraught with awful meaning to all concerned. At once tlie humming, 
buzzing hall assumed all the gravity and stillness of a tomb. The chairman rose 
slowly, as if burdened with some terrible secret — then came the words: "To the 
II. S., unanimously," and the storm burst. All the H. S. was on its feet in an instant, 
giving vent to such nerve-grating yells of triumph as would have put thunder-voiced 
Niagara to shame. The first spasmodic outburst over, the PI. S. filed slowly out to the 
tune of that inspiring strain : 

" Oh, you must he a member of the I. II. 8., 
Or you won't go to heaven when you die." 

The I. T. S had a banquet that night. liumor says that things tasted bitter. The 
extemporaneous speeches they had so carefully prepared were not delivered. Will they 
dardon us one quiet smile? C. G. B. 


\ I 



T was a generally prevailing opinion last 
September that it would be practically 
impossible to gather together enough 
musicians to represent and revive the mu- 
sical interests of the High School. Every 
year had seen its players strive through in- 
dividual efforts to maintain the standard 
that had been established by their prede- 
cessors, but this year a joint trial was 
made, and under the excellent leadership 
of Prof. A. J. Taylor, the Orchestra devel- 
oped into an organization which was not 
only a credit to itself, but an honor to our 
High School. All its efforts were crowned 
with success, and although the number of 
its members was limited, still the results 
obtained were a gratification to all, and far 
exceeded the most hopeful expectations. 

Throughout the entire year the Orches- 
tra and Mandolin Club have entertained 
the High School every Thursday morning 
in a most enjoyable manner, playing selec- 
selections of a difficult nature, and at 
other times those which appealed more to 
the ever^^-day life of a student. 

The Orchestra has most certainly been a 
grand success, and it is hoped that in future 
years the following classes will still 
cherish the love of music, and make its 
sweet strains again echo through the lonely 
coridors, awakening all their dormant 

The members of the Orchestra are : 

Prof. A. J. Tayloe, Leader. 

William A. Atkins, First Violin. 

Josephine McDowell, First Violin. 

Mary Charlotte Poeterfield, Second Violin. 

Nettie Ethel Leist, Second Violin. 

Arthur Dannee, Cornet. 

Edwin K. Pillet, Cornet. 

Herman A. Goth, Trombone. 

Edgab W. Danner, Bass. 

Elmer E. Eckhouse, Flute. 

Herman Hirsching, Clarinet. 

Adelaide L. Goetz, Piano. 

SHE High School Mandolin Club was 
organized during the last of the 
month of September, Eighteen Hun- 
dred and ISTinety-six. It at first con- 
sisted of but four members — Mr. Harry Wil- 
son, Mr. Chas. Johnson, Mr. Ray ISTewcomb, 
and Mr. Arnold Spencer, accompanist. 

The Club rapidly increased in size and 
ability. Three new members were added. 
Mr. Spencer resigned his position as ac- 
companist, but his place was ably filled by 
Miss Edna Kuhn. 

The Club played on Thursdays in the 
High School Hall and many times was re- 
quested to play in the different rooms and 
was very often invited to assist at concerts 
and socials given by the various churches 
of the city. Excellent progress was made 
without the aid of a director and in ac- 
cordance with the maxim, " Practice makes 
perfect," the weekly rehearsals on Wednes- 
days greatly improved the playing of the 
individual members as well as of the whole 
Club. The technique and " ensemble" are 
excellent and the precision and accuracy of 
the "tempo" are especially noticeable in 
the marches and waltzes. 

The repertoire of the Club i^ varied. 
Erom the inspiring and familiar strains of 
the Midway to the slow, dignified, and 
beautiful compositions of Rubinstein, Han- 
del and Mendelssohn the selections have 
shifted. The popular pieces by Sousa were 
perhaps more favorably received than the 
classical selections. 

The Club at present consists of: 

Miss Mary Sayles. 

Miss Margaret Shover. 

Miss Edna Kuhn (accompanist) 

Mr. Harry Wilson. 

Mr. Victor Keene. 

Mr. Ray N^ewcomb. 

Mr. Chas. Johnston. 




ta /O OlSTE can tell, I suppose, liow many times or under what circumstances, Shak- 
J^ speare's " Merchant of Venice " has been produced, nor do we care to know. But 
' I think it never was produced with as much pleasure to both the performers and 
the audience as on the night of the twenty-third of Januarj^ eighteen hundred and 
ninety-seven, when the senior classes of ninety-seven played it in the Grand Opera 

High School had known that she numbered in her ranks poets and artists, and 
scientists and philosophers and orators, but it remained for that evening to demonstrate 
the fact that High School has also in her ranks actors and actresses of great ability, 
and to place them proudly in the front, and to mark a red-letter day in the historic 
annals of the famous class of ninety-seven. In past years various plays have been given 
by the classes, but never before in the history of High School has a play as difficult as 
" The Merchant of Venice," and one in its entirety, with such fine performers, such 
magnificent costumes, such beautiful scenery, been placed upon the stage and acted 
with such consummate ease and grace. It eclipsed all previous records, and the seat- 
ing capacity of the Opera House was taxed to its utmost by the many friends of tlie 
performers who had come to witness their brilliant success. 

It seemed strange that we had all been together for almost four bright and liappy 
years, and never had discovered this latent talent in each other before; but tliere is an 
old saying, you know, that " You never really know what you can do until you try." 
Early in December rehearsals were begun under the careful direction of Mrs. Mar- 
guerite Kinselle Leppelman, and the brilliant production, and the charmingly artistic 
manner in which the cast acquitted itself on the eventful night, certainly reflected great 
credit both to her and to itself. An extremely sympathetic and appreciative audience 
was present. They despised Shylock for his avarice and cruelt}' ; they admired Portia's 
philosophy and beauty ; Bassanio's light heartedness ; Antonio's kindness and love, and 
they laughed at Launcelot's nonsense. 

When the play was first chosen, great excitement prevailed as to " who should be 
who," but tlie following cast was finally selected: 


Duke of Veuioe Harvey Elam. 

Antonio David F. Smith. 

Bassanio William A. Atkins. 

Salarino William D. McCarty. 

Salanio .J. Will Euef. 

Gratiano Edgar A. Eeklioiise. 

Lorenzo Elmer E. Scott. 

Shylock Lawrence B. Davis. 

Tubal Fletcher Hodges. 

Old Gobbo Edgar W. Danner. 

Launeelot Fred Olsen. 

Stephano Elmer S. Keay. 

Salerio Gilbert J. Hurty. 

Portia Mary .Josephine Griffin. 

Nerissa Helen Tarkington Crum. 

Jessica Nellie M. Holmes. 

nT -c f Percy W. Lander. 

Magnificoes J / 

I, Harry Wilson. 

It is rather a novel Bensation to find yourself on the stage for the first time, facing 
a vast audience, and with the orchestra playing and lights blazing. We all remember 



the time in onr childhood days when our proud mothers called us forth and bade us 
take our dress and make the old-fashioned curtsy, and say the piece which we had 
learned for auntie. But this is different. Before the curtain goes up, the lirst notes of 
the music make your heart give a little leap and your blood seems to tingle, and in a 
few minutes more you hear the voices of Antonio and Salanio and Salarino ringing 
forth, and you know that it will soon be time for you to make your debut before the 
hushed audience, and you wonder if that terribly distracting demon, stage fright, will 
seize you just as you enter, and then a moment more and you are there, and it doesn't 
seem strange at all. It is just as though you were at home, and some one has come to 
see you, and you were talking. 

To give a play seemed only a fitting climax to our glorious career. All during our 
course we have thought beautiful thoughts for ourselves, we have learned them from 
others, we have spoken them, and it seemed only natural then that at the end we should 
act them, and no play could have been found which has so many noble and beautiful 
characters, in which so many different phases of human nature are seen, or one so re- 
markable for depth of thought and beauty of expression as •' The Merchant of V^enice." 
• ■ • June, '97. 





T© KN©W 

If it pays to be a class politician ? 
If Bowers ever saw Mnlhall? 
If Scott wore " symmetricals ?" 

If "Yellow Kid" Olseu has a permanent position with the dog show? 
If any one thinks that Hodges is really funny ? 
If Dotey really has a case ? 

If Miss Donnan don't want to leave with " The Boys of '97." 
How many years it will take the I. T. S. to learn how to speak? 
How many conples really were on the floor at the first annual reception ? 
If Portia really prefers a church man? 

If M. H. S. was really disappointed after the class elections? 
Why Atkins nominated Mansfield for editor? 

How many years it took Alex. Chambers to select his company for the 28th? 
Over what precipice "the machine"' tumbled? 
If Talbert has yet purchased a " reduced-rate class pin ?" 
Why A. L.'s mother is coining to Commencement? 

Who said the door-jambs would have to be taken out to allow "Demagogue" Davis's 
head to pass out of the High School ? 

If Deacon Smith is really an " ecce hobo?" 

Why Bassanio did not embrace a golden opportunity? 

Where Pansy gets the cash to go to Europe? 




Whether Pussy (Lander) is going to Bryn Mavvr or Vassar? 
Whether M. J. G. really has " the fatal gift of beauty ?" 
What Spencer got out of the machine ? 

How long High School will last after June '97 leaves its corridors alone and de- 
serted save by Spohrs and Hibbens? 


Lady Pansy Lucretia Borga Mansfield, of Garbagehurst by the River. 

Miss Pussy Mehitable Lander, dressmaker. 

Eight Reverend Bishop Oleo-Margerine Smith, of the Diocese of Bucktown and 
Irish Hill, Guardian of the Home for Depraved Chinese Laundrymen, and " Ch,aper- 
■OOOOOOOOn " for parties, balls, etc. 

Prank Warkington S-p-c r, essayist. 

J. Sancho Panza Louisa Hermes Hermius Harmless Hercules Hobo Hurty, ladies' 

Innocence Rotten Row Goo-Goo Hodges, dog catcher. 

Leo Hen(ery) Lay man, poultry fancier. 

Pred Crosar Tabienus Celarno Gobo Olsen, "Taller Kid." 

Bantie Barry, walking encyclopedia. 

Wandering Weary Waggles Attrius Avery Atkin^^, turnkey. 

Windy Ego Wiley, an honor to the class (?). 

Eva Durability Davis, sage of I. H. S. 

Elmer Procrastination Keay, actor. 











"Some are wise, and some are otherwise." 

Prof. Ha ford : 

" Altogether too good for this wicked workL" 
Mrs. H afford: 

" Wlien found make a note of." 
Prof. Higdon : 

"How long, Lord I how loog?" 
Prof. Newland : 

" Modest and simple and sweet; the very type of Priscilla." 
Mrs. Careij : 

" This is little— but, oh my !" 
Prof. Doteij and ; 

'•Like a pair of turtle doves that could not live asunder." 
Prof. Burrell: 

" Time, himself, is bald, and to the world's end will have bald followers." 
Miss Dye : 

"A self-devoted victim." 
Prof. Benton : 

" A hue and famous Professor is he." 
Prof. {?) Kendall. ■ 

" A man can not cultivate his talent and his mustache impartially." 


CLASS OF '97. 

Grifin : 

" Tliou hast the fatal gift of heauty." 
Hodges : 

"If he had been forgot it had left no gap in nature/" 
Lecklider : 

" Studious she is, but in statui'e small ; a dumpy woman." 
Spencer : 

"A poor, mistreated democratic beast " 
Atkins : 

" He was a mortal of the careless kind, 
With no great love for learning or the learned." 

"He is not wise, but fair and sweet." 

" 'Twould be a pity if learned virgins e'er should wed." 
Mansfield : 

"A modern Samson, whose weakness is beneath his hair." 
Davidson : 

"Too fresh, too unadvised, too sudden." 
Wiley : 

" A most fine figure." 
Barry : 

" Sixty per cent, off." 
Selig : 

" Oh, God ! a beast that wants discourse of reason." 
Lander : 

" You would doubt his sex, and take him for a girl." 
Talbert : 

" Dreaming of genius, which he ne'er has had." 

Swain : 

" A woman who has red hair will have it till she dyes." 
Smith : 

"Thriftless ambition for oflBce that will even up 
Thy life's own purpose." 
Langenberg : 

" She has many nameless virtues." 
Hurty : 

" Such love is harmless. 
As love may be in school, when both are young(?)." 
Sayles : 

" I have only a woman's reason. I think him so because I think him so." 
Lehman : 

" ]^ot Hercules could have knocked out his brains, for he had none." 
Kelly : 

" I will leave large foot-prints in the sands of time." 
Dans : 

" Lo ! the great stump orator !"' 




White : 

" I'm but a stranger here below, 
Heaven is my home." 
Hibben : 

" Cheerless as the desert is the life of man unblessed by woman's love. 

" Love seldom haunts the breast where learning (?) lies." 
Tousey : 

"I want to be tough." 
Boioers : 

"He gives to airy nothing a habitation and a name." 
Newcomb : 

"Pretty, but not old enough to go with the girls." • 
Langsdale : 

" Nature has formed strange things in her time." 
S2)ohr : 

"Oa athletics a fiend, in politics a fool." 

©mcecs of '97, June. 




Treasurer, - 





David F. Smith. 

Elmer S. Keay. 

Bertha Langenberg. 

Percy W. Lander. 

Katherine Stevenson. 

Adelaide Lecklider. 

Mary Fitch Sewall. 

Within thine own sphere accomplish what thou canst." 

Flower. — Violet. 

Colors. — Lavender and White. 

....Class IRolL... 

Oda Adams. 
Rosalind Albert. 
Daisy Amick. 
Wm. A. Atkins. 
Chas. Barry. 
Joseph Barry. 
Alice Boyer. 
Myrtle Bundy. 
Milton Cash. 
Bessie Charpie. 
Alma Colden. 
Attie Cook. 
Helen Davidson. 
Lawrence Davis. 
Thos. Dugan. 
Harriet Eitel. 
Helen Ernestinoft. 
Chas. Fant. 
Pearl Fatout. 
Gertrude Feibleman. 
Adele Ferree. 
Margaret Foster. 
Mary Fournace. 
Adelaide Goetz. 
Mary Griffin. 
Grace Haines. 
Katherine Haxton. 
Grace Hooker. 
Mabel Hopkins. 
Gilbert Hurty. 

Myrtle .Jerman. 
Robert .Jones. 
Fletcher Hodges. 
Emma Kalb. 
Elmer Keay. 
Lizzie Kellogg. 
Frank Kelly. 
Anna Kight. 
Lucien King. 
Minnie Kirshbaum. 
Emma Klanke. 
Perc}' Lander. 
Bertha Langenberg. 
Adelaide Lecklider. 
Delia Lefeber. 
Leo. Lehman. 
Lulu Lloyd. 
Carl Ludwig. 
Nettie Leist. 
Jessie Lockhart. 
Mabelle MacAlpine. 
Wm. McCarty. 
Afine McCoy. 
Agnes McCulIoch. 
Sampsel Mansfield. 
Mary May. 
Lucy Montgomery. 
Edna Mullins. 
Fred Olsen. 
Leonore Peden. 

Zerelda Pierce. 
Bessie Potter. 
Pearl Power. 
Margaret Raschbacher. 
Carl Resoner. 
Maude Roach. 
May Rutledge. 
Pearl Salisbury. 
Mary Sayles. 
Florence Sargent. 
Mamie Sewall. 
Samuel Selig. 
David Smith. 
Frank Spencer. 
Katherine Stevenson. 
Ethel Stubbs. 
Chas. C. Scott. 
Llelen Swain. 
Mona Taggart. 
Ernest Talbert. 
Lulu Taurman. 
Fay Thompson. 
Elsie Tilley. 
May Vestal. 
Geo. Warren. 
Harry Wells. 
Ada Wheeler. 
Herbert Wiley. 
Beatrice Williams. 
Harry Wilson. 



5 3^ 




HREE years ago in April, 1894, the 
"craze of class organization" (so 
thej^ called it then) went through the 
High School, and touched the spirit of life 
and loyalty in the boys and girls who then 
had but one short year in High School to 
look back on, and three long ones to look 
forward to. Although it was within two 
months of the close of the school year, we 
organized, drew up a constitution, elected 
officers, chose our flower, the white carna- 
tion, and spread to the breeze our class 
colors, lavender and white. Many meet- 
ings and a class picnic helped to establish 
the organization, so that in the fall we 
were prepared for work without loss of 
time in becoming settled. Not only did 
we enjoy lively discussions in our class 
meetings and one or two social gatherings? 
but we entered heart and soul into work 
for the school. Permission Avas granted 
us, the first class below the junior year, to 
edit the Dawn. Eresh from the study of 
Bryant, his was the name we saw most 
clearly, and by the kind help of some of his 
more distinguished friends, we presented 
the Bryant Centennial number. In recog- 
nition of the debt we owed the school, we 
hung a copy of Millet's Shepherdess in the 
corridor, and inspired by our beginning, 
passed on to fuller enjoyment of organiza- 

tear two. 

Although the Junior Year in our course 
brought greater demands on our time and 
strength, class zeal was no whit dimin- 
ished. Two "Dawns" passed from our 
hands — a Lowell number and a Nineteenth 
of April number. In the second half of 

the year, we procured our class pins, which 
were designed by a member of the class. 
We are glad to wear a pin bearing so 
prominently the letters I. II. S., and we 
hope that the lavender laurel wreath and 
white bow are true symbols of our victory 
and purity. A painting by Mr. Gruelle 
was also presented to Miss Dye. One of 
the most interesting features of the year 
was the growth of a crop of pennies. Our 
ingenious teacher planted in the hand of 
each of her room pupils a penny, with the 
instruction that it was to be returned at 
the end of the year increased many fold ; 
or, if we wished to follow the example of 
the wicked servant in the parable, we 
might wrap it in a napkin, and return it 
blacker and older. Nearly all of the pen- 
nies grew, and many were returned in- 
creased a hundred fold and more. The 
crop procured for Room E a large picture 
of Tennyson, and our little experience fur- 
nished material for an article in our paper.. 

year ihrbe. 

It is with pride that we say year three,. 
for ours alone is a class history of three 
years. Our endeavor this year has been tO' 
have a two-fold record, one in the. class- 
room, which, of course, means only the 
final supreme effort of a long struggle, and 
another in a gift to the school, which we 
hope to complete in a manner befitting the 
love we feel for the institution. Some of 
the outside work of the class has been seen 
in the presentation of the "Merchant of 
Venice" by the February and June classes. 
Several of our members also took part in 
the "Pirates of Penzance." Although our 
social life has been limited, we greatly en- 
joyed a Saturday afternoon in High School 
Hall with the February graduates. We 
have also found most enjoyable the monthly 
receptions at the home of Mr. and Mrs. 



Hufford, where we have gained better ac- 
quaintance with teachers and classmates. 
As our last work, Ave join with the Febru- 
ary Class in the editing of the Annual for 
1897. It is with pride that we look upon 
three years of class life'. Yes, joy and sor- 
row, too. It may have been a "craze" or 
" fad" that brought our organization into 
being, but it has been neither which has 
carried on our life. We are glad to re- 
member our fellowship in working for a 
common end, and only sorry that so soon 
we must pass fi-om under the bond that 
has held us all together as nothing else 
could have done 

Katherine Stevenson, 

Class Historian. 


T was midnight. The spring air breathed 
softly through my room, and the grass- 
green moonlight gleamed with ghastly 
clearness on my writing table. All was 
silence, and I in vain strove to think what 
I might prophesy. Suddenly came a sharp, 
mysterious rapping and a tapping, and my 
pencil, slipping from ni}^ hand, glided rap- 
idly over the paper, moved by some strange, 
mysterious agency. Shuddering, I watched 
its progress, and saw grow in pale letters 

this date, June, 1920, and below it this 

marvelous epistle : 

Unfortunate Seeress — With all com- 
passion for you and your endeavors, I, the 
Spirit of the Future, looking back from 
my dim station will enlighten you as to 
Avhat is, at the above date, the fortune of 
your classmates of '97. 

Of those Avho awakened your enthusiasm 
by their dramatic genius, few have become 
successful actors. Mary Griffin remains a 
shining exception, however, and lately 

wrote a series of articles on "Romance in 
Real Life," taken from her own adventures 
on the stage. Helen Davidson, too, has 
become so great an operatic star that she 
has abbreviated her name and is known as 
the great " Nellie David." Fred Olsen, the 
greatest actor of them all, snaps his mis- 
chievous eyes at large audiences and shoAvs 
himself greatly superior to the clown that 
he Avas painted at his first appearance. 

LaAvrence Davis, the promising Shylock, 
has a modest little sign over a doAvn-tOAvn 
door, reading, " Attorney at LaAv, Actor 
and Machinist. Also practical jokes made 
to order and delivered Avith effect." 

As for Sampsell Mansfield, the last time 
he was seen he Avas balanced proudly on 
the top round of the ladder of success and 
Avildly beating the air Avith his long arms 
because there Avas no more room to climb. 
As this was " positively his last appear- 
ance," it is supposed he has gone up. 

Elmer Keay has become a champion 
sprinter, and crowds gather daily at the 
race tracks to see him " go with all con- 
venient speed." His chief backer is capi- 
talist Gilbert Hurty, Avho, being entirely 
heart-whole, has given his undivided at- 
tention to the accumulation of Avealth. 

Will Atkins is still debating Avhether to 
enter the regular saAv-works or content 
himself Avith saAving on his violin, and, like 
Orpheus, entrancing men Avith melody di- 

Adelaide Goetz has rings on her fingers 
and plenty of beaux, and she makes music 
Avherever she goes. 

Maude Roach and pretty " Del." Feree 
are in the far west, making the prairie 
blossom Avith lilies and the roses in their 

The Barry brothers have a fruit market, 
Avhere " elderberries" and peaches are the 
chief stock in trade. 

Elsie Tilley has gone to Japan, where 



she is writing up the ancient history of that 
country, and Ada Wheeler has a bureau of 
information, where slow pupils may have 
Latin poetry well translated at a moment's 

Pearl Fatout has written a successful 
sensational novel entitled " The Adventures 
of My Cousin's Friends," and Frank Spen- 
cer has proved both literary and musical, 
and composes songs with which Apollo 
quartets and owl clubs can make night 
hideous. These Leo Lehman sings in the 
deep, rich bass whose solos once delighted 
the English classes in Room B. 

David Smith, who was the "unhappy 
subject of so many quarrels" in his school 
days, is saddened with regret and poses at 
the wax figure show as "the man who 
never smiled again." His great beauty and 
artistic melancholy attract many admirers. 

Margaret Foster grows sweeter every 
day, and her latest benevolence is a private 
school for post-graduates where the wicked 
cease from troubling and the weary are at 

Robert Jones gives boxing lessons, in- 
cluding Ins famous patent double embrace 
without extra charge. 

Percy Lander keeps bachelor's hall, and 
on his wall hang scores of portraits, each 
inscribed— "The Only Girl I Ever Loved." 

This gallery, Uarry Wells, the man of 
small experience, visits daily and comes 
away a wiser man. 

Herbert Wiley lias a prosperous school 
in Yankeedom, where he teaches pious 
children hymns "entuned fal semely in 
the nose." 

Ernest Talbert visited England and was 
made a lord because of his astounding 
braininess, but in spite of this, some un- 
happily-minded members of June, '97, per- 
sist in regarding him as a most be Iniighted 

Oda Adams is married, which is remark- 

able, when you consider the loneliness of 
her early life. In a Paris gallery hangs a 
picture of her friend, Alice Boyer, by an 
unknown artist. Passersby call it " a little 
girl in red." 

Mamie Sewall dwells in Maine, but has 
a long distance telephone to Mona Tag- 
gart's ISTew York mansion, and the tele- 
phone girl who listens to their whispered 
confidences sometimes is Mary Sayles — 

Helen Ernestinofl" went in an air ship to 
see whether there really was a man in the 
moon and what sort of a fellow he was. 
She has not yet returned from this scien- 
tific (?) quest. 

Florence Sargent and Kate Stevenson 
are new women. Florence is a lawyer, and 
our brilliant Kate a preacher. It was 
necessary to have one preacher in the class 
and the boys were not qualified. 

Of all the girls the class loved, Bertha 
Langenberg has remained the most popu- 
lar and made the greatest success of life. 
For awhile she taught school, and gentle- 
ness Avith it, but at present she is abroad 
enjoying the large fortune of the lucky 
man who won her heart. 

Anne McCoy found her mission — to 
make people laugh. But, sad fate ! she 
choked to death on one of Fletcher 
Hodges' jokes. Her friend. Agues Mc- 
Culloch, was so overcome that she entered 
a nunnery, and Fletcher, in his remorse, got 
him to the nearest monkery. There they 
pay vows to Helen Swain, who has been 
placed on the calendar as the patron saint 
of laughter and all good things that are. 

The writing stopped as suddenly as it 
began, and my own fate, among otliers, 
was left unsolved and ever shall be, unless 
the Spirit of the Future may again visit 
me in dreams. 

Class Prophet, '97. 

6\VvceTS 0^ 'Sebruar^ dVass, '^1. 

Presklent, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, 

Elmer Scott. Jessie Bowman. Ethel Brown. Donald Morris. 


Harvey Elam. 


Louisa Van Dyke. 


Helen Crum. 

^ebvMav^ CXass, '^1 

^ i(i ^ ^ ^ 


1. Lulu M. Adams. 

2. Olive Aughiiibaugli. 

3. Bessie S. Barry. 

4. Elizabeth Bodine. 

5. .Jessie F. Bowman. 

6. Emma Browder. 

7. Etliel L. Brown. 

8. Frank F. Burns. 

9. Abbie Buslinell. 

10. Elizal)eth Chipman. 

11. Alice H. Christian. 

12. Maple Churchill. 

13. Grace Cliftbrd. 
J 4. Kate T. Cofer. 
15. Harry Cohen. 
10. Helen T. Crum. 

17. Edgar W. Banner. 

18. Frances M. DeFrees. 

19. Edgar A. Eckhouse. 

20. Harvey J. Elam. 

21. Herbert Fatout. 

22. Leonore L. Gastineau. 

23. Grace F. Gookin. 

24. Dove E. Hall. 

25. Laurel Hisey. 

26. Georgia G. Holland. 

27. Nellie M. Holmes. 


Myra Kellogg. 


Fiieda Krull. 


Mary J. Minor. 


Belle T. Moon. 


Mercy Moore. 


Donald S. Morris. 


Caroline B. Norton. 


Edith Osborne. 


Mary Pierson. 


Ida Pingpank. 


Mary Quinn. 


Bertha Kanney. 


J. William Euef. 


Olga Schellschmidt. 


Elmer E. Scott. 


Lesta Sebrell. 


Gertrude vSelig. 


Deborah Shipman. 


Hannah Sonnenberger 


Bertha Steinhauer. 


Georgia Stevenson. 


Anne D. Todd. 


Waller Twiname. 


Louisa A. Van Dyke. 


Alice Vincent. 


Opal Voris. 



OF '97. 

1 I f^E always have been an unusually 

\XJ meritorious class, and we are still. 
We have never made it our policy 
to tell everybody that we are great. We 
have always thought that people with or- 
dinary intellects could not fail to perceive 
our merits. We are, nevertheless, an ex- 
ceedingly warm class. This is proven by 
the fact that, after we had graduated and 
had ceased coming together and radiating 
our heat, the thermometer dropped to 
twenty below zero, the coldest weather of 
the season. But for the fact that many of 
us stayed as post-graduates, the steam 
would have frozen in the radiators. 

The effect of the class on the teachers 
has also been noticeable. Miss Edson was 
the first to succumb. She did not appreci- 
ate what we really were until she organized 
us. But when she saw us all together it 
was too much for her, and so she married. 
We gave her some free silver spoons in 
celebration of the event. The next teacher 
to go down was Mr. Hill, who strove in 
vain to teach us Latin. He endured us for 
six months and then was forced to leave. 
Miss Donnan then took up the task, but 
we gave her nervous prostration within 
four months. 

Our effect on our presidents has been 
almost as great. First came Baker. He 
stayed with us until he found he was not 
■ equal to the task. JSText came Mothershead. 
His presidential labors were so great that 
lie found his health in danger; so he re- 
signed. Then Elam was chosen and he 
"broke his arm within two months after 
his election. But after him the class met 
its master, Scott. He is the exception that 
proves the rule. He is the only one that 
has prospered in office. Behold the mighty 
form and sleek, well-fed appearance he has 

Our first deed as a class was to give a 
reception. As we had no one else to re- 
ceive we received ourselves This was our 
first triumph. Our next deed was, with 
the assistance of the June Class of '97, to 
give another reception, this time to the 
June Class of '96. This was the first time 
a June Class had been given a reception, 
and we hope the custom will continue. 
We have always been fond of receptions. 
The next event in our history was the 
presentation of the " Merchant of Venice," 
by the classes of '97. It was, beyond all 
question, the grandest performance ever 
presented by the High School, and will go 
down in the archives of the nation. The 
next page in our history is the reception 
tendered us by the June Class of '97. We 
all had a pleasant time, and thank our hosts 

Then came Class Day. On that occasion 
certain members of the June Class con- 
ceived the idea that they knew how to 
manage a Class Day better than we did, 
and they proceeded to try it. But they 
failed so ignominiously that we were forced 
to resume control. Indeed, they showed 
that their ideas on the subject were so 
crude that the authorities have concluded 
that said class is not competent to have a 
Class Day of their own. We concur with 
the authorities. 

After this comes the last page in our 
history — graduation. But it would take 
too long to detail the splendors of that 
night. This history must close. It is the 
record of triumph after triumph. We leave 
the conquered field with regret. We hope 
the June Class may some time learn to fill 
our place, although we think it is beyond 
their powers; but this is for the future to 
disclose. It is my duty only to outline the 
glories that have been achieved by the 
Crimson and White. Here ends the task of 

The Historian. 



CLASS, '97. 

PROPHESY ! Prophesy ! What shall I 
proplie^j? How do I know but that 
there may be a future President of 
the United States, some great discoverers, 
teachers, or better still, those who will 
teach the fundamental principles of truth 
by the fireside? So like the fairies of yore, 
who wisdom would find, I betook myself 
to the bird of the wise. Sir Owl, thou 
dread bird of wisdom, tell me, I pra}' thee, 
what shall I prophesy for the Feb. Class of 
'97? He cocked his head first to one side, 
then to the other, and looking at me from 
those great eyes, went ton hon, ton, honte, 
tou houte, hou, hou. This interpeted 
means, prophesy great things for the Feb. 
Class of '97. Without any more ado than 
merely to tuck one foot np, he prophesied 
as follows : 

Elmer Scott, though not a Scott, in the 
future will be greeted by the shouts of 
" Great Scott." 

Bessie Berry has completed all arrange- 
ments to sail, as a foreign missionary, to 
Japan, next June. At the same time that 
she leaves, Alice Christian will also sail for 
China, to endeavor to christianize it. 

Alice Vincent, Frieda KruU and Mercy 
Moore expect to make a tour of Europe on 
their wheels next year. After that they 
will write a book called, " The Adventures 
of the Three Bicyclists," which shall make 
them so famous that they will ever after- 
wards be known as "The Three Women 
Bicyclers of the World." 

Georgia Stevenson is going to a finishing 
school in 'New York City for a week, and 
when she returns will make her debut in 

Ollie Aughinbaugh and Olga Schell- 
schmidt are going to return to Germany 

soon. They will become governesses in 
order to teach the children how to speak 

Bessie Bodine intends to be a nurse and 
by her gentle ministrations will prove her- 
self a second Florence Nightingale. 

Harvey El am, who loves to talk to every 
one he can, had better watch or "The gob- 
lins will git him sure," and turn him into 
a windmill. 

There will be a famous cook in this class,, 
whose services will be in demand in all the 
largest cities in the United States, for a 
better pie, a better cake, or a better pud- 
ding no one can bake than Grace Gookin. 

Edith Osborn will write a novel known 
as " The Martyred Hero," which will give 
her great renown. 

jSTellie Holmes is going to be an actress- 
She will make a special study of Shakes- 
peare's Jessica. 

l^ext fall Opal Voris will go to the Ora- 
torical School at Boston. In a short time 
after graduation from there, her fame will 
become so great that when she speaks in 
Tomlinson Hall of Indianapolis, thousands 
will have to be turned away. 

Mary (^uinn will make her living by ex- 
hibits of free hand drawing, and annual 
poster sales. 

Dame Fortune shall smile on Caroline 
Norton, and in two years Caroline will be 
an heiress of so vast wealth that its extent 
will be unknown. 

You would not believe me, would you ?' 
But let me tell you, in this February Class 
of '97 there is to be a duchess ! Bertha 
Ranney is going to Newport next summer. 
There she will meet the Duke Don 0. QuintO' 
du Ex O'Frere Ro, of the Kingdom of Es- 
painia, whom she will wed next autumn. 

Georgia Holland will never again allow 
the seas to flow through her dikes, for she- 
intends to take Louisa Van Dyke to Hol- 
land with her to mend her dikes. 



Lesta Sebrell and Myra Xellogg will be- 
come private kindergarten teachers. They 
will do so well that in a short time they 
will have the means to support a fresh-air 

Herbert Fatout will be a civil engineer, 
for log-chains and surveying are his de- 

Gently the door of a poor hovel will be 
opened by two young ladies, each with a 
small basket, who will be greeted affec- 
tionately by the inmate, who will exclaim, 
"I am so glad to see you, for you seem to 
me like bright sunbeams!" 'Tis Laurel 
Hisey and Dove Hall. 

Abbey Bushnell and Leonore Gastineau, 
with Will Ruef as escort, are going to 
France to study French. When they re- 
turn all they will say will be: " Francais 
est belle," or " Parlez vous Francais ? " 

Debbie Shipman will become a book- 
keeper in one of the banks in a short time. 

Who did you say the Reporter was? 
"Bertha Steinhauer" will be the reply. 
She is the most trusted and most conipe 
tent of all our reporters, and you ma}^ rest 
assured that your lecture will be i-e^iorted 

Hannah Sonncnberger will make a great 
invention, which will be called "The New 
Man." The device will be simple. A small 
box will be divided into three compart- 
ments. The first will have black and 
white paper and wires ; the second, a bat- 
tery; the third, an air bellows. When 
wanted for use, blow the air bellows and a 
man will jump out; then turn on the elec- 
tricity, and he is ready for use. The only 
thing he lacks is a mind, but the great 
convenience of this man will balance that 

Hereafter the members of the February 
Class, '97, must purchase their candy from 
the candy kitchen of Bessie Chipman and 
Grace Clifford. 

Charles Lamb was once asked by a 
schoolmarm what he would call her. He 
replied, "A murderer of innocents." Em- 
ma Browder a schoolmarm and a murderer 
of innocents will be. 

Not far hence there will be an Indianap- 
olis Symphou}' Orcliestra, which will be- 
come as famous as the Boston Symphony 
Orchestra through the help of Edgar 
Banner on his bass viol and Edgar Eck- 
house on his violin. 

Ida Pingpank will be a physician and 
show great skill in surgery. 

Kate Cope will become a public speaker 
on woman's rights. 

Mary Minor is going out west to seek 
her fortune. She will not take a pickax, 
but by good fortune she will discover a 
gold mine and also will find a minor await- 
ing her. 

Walter Twiname will discover that mat- 
ter exists out of nothing. 

Gertrude Selig will seat herself beside a 
little girl at the piano and will say, " Now, 
dear, let me show you how it goes. Que 
an, two an, one an, two an, one an, two an.''' 

Helen Cruni a poet will be, but 0, 'tis t(^ 
be hoped her poetry won't crum. 

Belle Moon is going away to a law 
school After that she will practice law 
and order in keeping the home of some son- 

We shall all go to the studio of Donald 
Morris, for he intends to be a sculptor, 
making a special study of dogs, as he mani- 
fested a great fondness, in the school days 
of yore, for them. 

Mary Pierson has sent her business man- 
ager to New York City to rent a business 
office on Wall street, for she is going to 
enter the real estate business. 

Maple Churchill will build a cold air 
tower several miles high, and will conduct 
air down in the summer, which will be 
piped to all the houses and sold at so much 
per foot. 



With her bow and arrow Jessie Bowman 
German verbs doth slay, while in a hand 
to hand encounter, Fanny Defrees over- 
comes Latin declensions and conjugations- 
In the future, they will occupy chairs in the 
Indianapolis University and will be known 
as Prof. Jessie Fremont Bowman and Prof. 
Defrees, B. A., B. S., and Ph. D. 

Frank Burns, who, by his diligent work, 
has proved that he fully deserves the name 
of Burns, intends to show that, -olj 

" As come it will for a' that, 
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, 

May bear the gree, and a' that. 

For a' that, and a' that, 

It's coming yet, for a' that, 
That man to man, the world o'er, 

Shall brothers be for a' that." 

When women all vote in the United 
States and we elect a President, we shall 
elect Ethel Brown. 

Great age and antiquity has this class. 
There is one member who is over five 
thousand years old. 'Tis true she has 
added an s to her name, but then what's 

an s more or less. Fair Lulu Adams, with 
her gentle ways, has won all our hearts, 
but some day Lulu A. will win another and 
lose hers. 

Harry Cohen has completed all arrange- 
ments to bridge the Atlantic ocean. 

Ah, me! If there isn't I^annie Todd. 
She will be like " Sweet Peggy in the Low- 
Backed Car" : 

" O, I'd rather own that car, sir. 

With Peggy by my side. 
Than a coach and four, and gold galore, 

And a lady for my bride ; 
For the lady would sit forninst me. 

On a cushion made with taste. 
While Peggy would sit beside me, 

With my arm around her waist. 
While we drove in the low-backed car. 
To be married by Father Mahar, 

O, my heart would beat high 

At her glance and her sigh, — 
Though it beat in a low-backed car ! " 

Sir Owl gave me strict charge to deliver 
all he had said, and briefly bade good-bye 
— Tou bout. 

Louisa Amelia Van Dyke. 

October — The school was addressed by 
Dr. Georsje Reisner, I. H. S. '85, who 
spoke upon his impressions of life in Ger- 

December 17 — The Seniors gave dramatic 
selections from Shakespeare's "Julius 
Caesar," in High School Hall. 

January 23 — The " Merchant of Venice " 
was given by the Seniors in the Grand 
Opera House." 

January 30 — Reception to the Februarj^ 
class, given by the June class in High 
School Hall. 

February 11 — Mid-Year Commencement. 

February 12 — The debate between the 
H. S. and I. T. S. occurred at the Indus- 
trial Training School. 

February — Dr. E. E. Lewis gave the 
school a very interesting talk upon Syria. 

May 15 — The classes of '98 gave a recep- 
tion to the June '97 class in High School 

May 21 — High School oratorical contest 
at Plymouth Church. The schools of 
Richmond, Plaintield, Madison, Portland 
and Indianapolis participated. 

June 16 — Commencement. 

Jane 19 — Meeting of the High School 
Alumni Association in High School Hall. 


T. J. MooEE, Presl., 
M. Shearer, Sec. 

E. Newcomb, 
Prof. Dotey, 

Alex. Chambers, 

Prof. Trent, 

Thos. J. Moore, President. 
Wm. a. Atkins, Vice-President. 
M. Shearer, Secretary. 
F. Kendall, Treasurer. 

D. Morris, F. M. Talbott, 

Prof. La may, R. Bosler. 

THE Athletics of '97 liave been for the 
most part on paper. At the opening 
of the football season, the Athletic 
Association was not organized, and the 
athletic spirit was fostered only by foot- 
ball enthusiasts. Profiting, however, by 
the experience of former years, the Athletic 
Association was awakened from its restless 
sleep by a new spirit, which greatly sur- 
prised the old, independent members. It 
first manifested itself in a new constitu- 
tion, which struck the first blow that broke 
the old athletic machine into a thousand 
pieces, and temporarily numbed the athletic 
nervous system ot the Indianapolis High 
School. The next remedy which was 
applied to our weak sufi'erers was the incor- 
poration of the Athletic Association. It 
was deemed the proper thing to back up 

a body as a school athletic association with 
the strong arm of the law, as only such a 
power can deal out justice equally to all 
members. Another side of the subject of 
School athletics upon which much stress was 
made to bear was the early introduction of 
our freshmen into the athletic events. The 
freshman generally supposes that he must 
have at least two years' previous training 
before he is able to enter the school organ- 
izations, and another year to get in with the 
"push." The Athletic Association of '97 
wishes to be put on record as being a pro- 
moter of the interests of all Pligh School 
students, not excepting the freshman. It 
believes that athletics should be developed 
from the start of the student's High School 
life. The succeeding organizations should 
foster such a plan. Thos. J. Moore. 

♦...3ftcl6 S)a^, '96.... 

▼ T T T * T 

5EVERAL hundred people were present at the fair grounds Saturday, June 6, to wit" 
ness the third Annual Field Day of the Athletic Association. It w^as one of the notice- 
able features to have so large an attendance, and the interest manifested hy the fair 
sex probably had a great deal of effect upon the efforts of the hoys. Two of the former 
records were broken, the half mile bicycle race won by Wm. Atkins in 1 : 13 against 
the former record of T. David, 1:18 and the one mile bicycle race won by J Steinmetz 
in 2 : 39 against the former record of T. David, 2 : 50. 

A new departure was added to the list of events, a faculty race, which excited much 
interest and furnished much amusement for the students of the school. 

©fficevs of the IDa?» 

Clerk of Course, John Sickler. 

Referee, Eenest Rinehart. 
Starter, Prof. Pearl. 

Field .Judges, Prof. Foss and 

Paul Mavity. 

Timers, Sam Patterson and Prof. Benton. 
Scorer, Prof. Peck. 

Judges of Finish, Prof. Taylor, and 

Frank T. Baker. 
Announcer, Bert B. Downey. 

The list of events and records is as follows 

FACULTY RACE.— ioo=yard dash. 

First, Prof. Taylor ; second, Prof. 
Dotey ; third, Prof. Trent. Last 
but not least, Prof. King. Time, 
12j seconds. 

The other events of the day, with 
the score made, are as follows : 

EVENT No. I. ioo=yard dash. 

I. H. S. record, lOJ seconds. H. 
Churchman got first place in 10 4-5 
seconds ; O. Mothershead second 
and E. Tolliver third. 

EVENT No. 2.— Putting i2=pound shot. 

1. H. S. record, 36 feet. First, 
H. Churchman, 34^ feet ; second, 
C. Tucker; third, F. Datesman. 

EVENT No. 3.— Quarter-mile bicycle 

I. H. S. record, 35 3-5 seconds. 
J. Steinmetz first ; time 36| seconds. 
Wm. Atkins second, and Wm. Mc- 
Carty third. 

EVENT No. 4.— 220=yard dash. 

Record, 24 seconds. A. Mothers- 
head first; time, 25 seconds. D. 
Ritter second, and D. Ketcham third. 

EVENT No. 5.— Standing high jump. 

Record, 4 feet 3 inches. G. Ma- 
hurin first; 4 feet 3 inches; R, 
Newhall second, and D. Ketchan) 

EVENT No. 6. 

-One-half mile bicycle 

Record, 1:1 It. Wm. Atkins first; 
lime, 1:18; \A'illiam McCarty second, 
and J. Steinmetz third. 
EVENT No. 7.— Standing broad jump. 

Record, 10.! feet. First, E. Tolliver, 
9 feet 11 inches; second, C. Tucker, 
and third, R. Douglass. 

EVENT No. 8.— Three-legged race. 

No record. First, H. Churchman 
and E. Dashiell; second, R. New- 
hall and O. Mothershead; third, .J. 
McGee and C. Tucker. 

EVENT No. 9. — One mile bicycle race. 

Record, 2:50. First, J. Steinmetz; 
time, 2:39; second, Wm. Atkins; 
third, E. Steinmetz. 

EVENT No. 10. — Running broad jump. 

Record, 19 feet 4 inches. First, 

C. Tucker, 17 feet 2 inches; second, 

D. Ritter; third, R. Douglass. 

EVENT No. II.— High kick. 

Record, 8 feet. First, H. Church- 
man, 7 feet 11 J inches; second, R. 

EVENT No. 12.— One mile run. 

Record, 5:38. First, E. Scott, 5:52; 
second, E. Dashiell. 

EVENT No. 13.— Running high jump. 

Record, 5 feet 9 inches. First, G. 
Mahurin, 5 feet ; second, R. New- 
hall ; third, C. Tucker. 

EVENT No. 14.— 440=yard dash. 

Record, 58 seconds. First, E. Tol- 
liver, 1:01 ; second, D. Ritter ; third, 
C. Tucker. 

EVENT No. 15.- One mile walk. 

Record, 8:59. First, R. Hobbs, 
9:04; second, A. Perrott. 
EVENT No. 16.— Two-mile bicycle race. 

Record, 5.09-J. First, J. Stein- 
metz ; second, Wm. Atkins ; third, 

E. Steinmetz. Time not given. 




5IK)RTLY after the organization of the 
Athletic Association in Mai'ch it Avas 
learned that the Industrial Training 
School wished to join us in the celebra- 
tion of a Field Day. A committee was 
appointed to confer with a corresponding 
committee from the Training School in 
relation to conditions concerning a joint 
Field Day. 

It seems that by the time the committees 
arranged a conference, tlie spirit had greatly 
changed in the athletic quarters of the 
Training School. Their committee dic- 
tated these absurd conditions to our mem- 
bers : " We will combine with the I. H. S. 
in the celebration of a Field Day if the I. 
H. S. will allow us all the money we make 
selling tickets at our school — I. H. S. do- 
ing the same; each sliaring the gate re- 
ceipts equally, and the expenses equally, 
and bar all post-graduates of more than 
six months standing." These conditions 
were vicious in every respect, far from 
promoting the spirit of friendly rivalry, 
and were consequently promptly refused 
by the High School. They would have 
turned the event into a ticket-selling con- 
test and the athletic spirit would have been 
entirely smothered, permitting the al- 
mighty dollar, greed personified, to reign 
supreme. It seems that the prompt re- 
fusal of the Training School's terms, and 
the announcement that I. H. S. would have 
an independent Field Day, surprised our 
friends, but rather than accept unjust 
terms we decided to pursue such a course. 
Again, the portion of the conditions relat- 
ing to post-graduates is very amusing. 
The athletic post-graduates of the Train- 
ing School, Queisser, etc., are necessarily, 
on account of the age of the school, of not 

more than six months standing, while such 
is not the case in the I. H. S. It is very 
probable that in three years from date the 
Training School will be admitting post- 
graduates of four years' standing, if pos- 
sible. " Circumstances vary." 

As soon as the Athletic Association felt 
assured of an independent Field Day, a 
prize committee was appointed and quite 
a number of prizes were procured. For 
some weeks enthusiasm decreased to 
such a point that the association finally 
decided to abandon the question of 
Field Day for '97. Among the reasons 
set forth for such action was the lack 
of interest and also injustice to the 
merchants who contributed prizes for our 
events. The I. H. S. wants each succeed- 
ing Field Day to eclipse the former, for it 
does not do justice to the reputation of the 
school to take prizes ottered by merchants 
for a successful Field Day and virtually 
throw them away on an unworthy Field 
Day. Such is the opinion of Athletic 
Association of '97. 

Thus. J. Mooke. 


I I PON the adoption of the new Consti- 
vJ tution of the '97 Athletic Associa- 
tion the question of who is a bona 
fide student of this school was brought 
up. At a meeting of the Board of 
Directors the following definition was 
drawn up : Any student in the Indian- 
apolis High School who is doing passing- 
work in subjects involving at least nine 
recitations per week shall be considered a 
bona fide member of this school, except 
those post-graduates whose gradiiation oc- 
curred more than two years previous. 





Donald Morris, I. h. (Capt.) 
Ray Newcomb, quar. 
Chas. Bynum, r. h. 
Roy Rosier, /. h. 
Robert Newhall, /. e. 
Alex. Chambers, r. t. 
O. Kettenbacli, I. t. 
F. Merrill Talbott, r. e. 
George Tousey, r. g. 
Robert Jones, I. 7. 
Owen Pickens, guar. 
Ralph Belcher, c. 


Sam Eckman. 
Clifford Keeling. 
M. Shearer. 
Prof. John Lamay, coach 
and manager. 


I. T. S 14 

L H. S 

I. T. S 18 

I. H. S 

Lebanon 4 

I. H. S (i 

Professor Lamay, who has had some 
experience in foot-ball circles in Chicago 
University, graciously agreed to coach the 
boys and put them through some sharp 
training. Speed seemed to be his great 
point, and the boys went home from prac- 
tice many times with that tired feeling 
which intrudes the system of one who has 
indulged in a cross-country run. But, as 
the team was very light, speed and accu- 
racy of plays greatly helped it. In fact, 
the extreme lightness of the team seemed 
to be its only drawback. In the games 
with the 1. T. S. the relative weights of the 
teams differed so widely that I. H. S. was 
not able to " hold the Training School 
down." The contests with I. T. S. fur- 
nished good examples of " clean '" foot-ball. 
1. H. S. can ofl'er no excuse for its defeat 
other than being outclassed by the repre- 

sentatives of the South Side school. In 
the second game, I. H. S. made a grand 
efibrt in the iirst half, but with the ball a 
few yards from I. T. S. goal, gradually lost 
ground, and our hopes were soon lost 
through the overweight of the 1. T. S. 

One victory was scored on Thanksgiving 
day at Lebanon, 6 to 4 in favor of I. II. S. 
The game was liotl}' contested from start 
to finish, and served as a grand finale for 
the season. 

Donald Morris captained the team for 
the season, but was injured early in the 
season, and did not take active part in the 
last games. Professor Lamay most cer- 
tainly deserves great credit for bringing 
the eleven into the condition that he did, 
notwithstanding the lack of material. 


BASE BALL, like the other athletics of 
High School, met with little success 
this year, although not from the same 
cause as was the failure of the other ath- 
letic attempts. There was enough interest 
displayed to warrant the organization of a 
nine which would eclipse the famous team 
of '96, but the spirit of greed seemed to be 
too evident. There were plenty of candi- 
dates who wished to play ball, but they 
were not willing to help the Athletic Asso- 
ciation supply them Avitli base ball equip- 
ments by placing their names on the asso- 
ciation roll and by paying the necessary 
dues. There were a few, however, who 
tried to set a good example by joining the 
Association, but the majority did not. The 
team in its infancy elected R. l^ewhall as 
Captain and D. Morris as Manager. An 
unofiicial team, supposed to represent the 
Indianapolis High School defeated Frank- 
lin College, which fact shows what sort 
of a team might have been formed had 
it not been for the weak-mindedness of 
the majority of the players. T. J. M. 

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66 \ 




Indiana Law School 

OF THE . . . 



BYRON K. ELLIOTT, President. 




School year begins on Tuesday, October 4th, 1898, and ends on Wednesday, May 
24th, 1899. 

Corps of Lecturers numbers twenty. 

Diploma admits to bar of United States and State Courts. 

For Announcement, Catalogue, etc., address the Dean, 




Utjiversity of lr)dmr)Bipo\is, 



A perfectly equipped dental college, offering every facility for the acquirement 
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For Catalogue and all information address 


S. W. Corner Delaware and Ohio Sts., 



The Medical College of Indiana* 

The Twenty-eighth Annual Commencement exercises of this well known institution took place on March 29, 
1898, with a class of seventy-nine. The Faculty desires to call attention to the following points in connection with 
the school : The careful and thorough grading of the classes (this is not, as in many schools, merely in theory, but is 
complete and absolute); the classes never by any chance hear the same lecture repeated ; the system of monthly exam- 
inations, the only method fair alike to teacher and student ; a building specially erected for and owned by the college, 
containing ample room and well stocked with teaching facilities ; a dispensary in college building, well patronized ; 
clinic rooms at hospitals, new and modem ; w^omen admitted on same terms as men ; a four-year course, rigidly 
administered, and finally a high grade of intelligence in its classes. The last graduating class contained men from 
nearly every literary and normal school in this State, and from many in neighboring States. Of the applicants at the 
opening of last term, less than 7 per cent, required a preliminary examination. 
For all particulars, address the Dean, 


206 J-2 East New York Street, 

Indianapolis, Indiana. 

Department of tbe Xiberal arts 

JButler College, 

♦ . . flrvington . . . 

^ ^ 

The purpose of this department of the University of Indianapolis is to fur- 
nish the means of a general education in the arts and sciences. It is believed 
that such education not only contributes to liberal culture, but affords a preliminary 
training of immense practical value in professional or business life. 

Next session begins October 3d, 1898. Tuition $12 per term of twelve 
weeks. Catalogue will be furnished on application. Address as above. 

1 820 




That the University is rapidly gaining the confidence and support of the educational 
public is shown by the following figures : 

























Catalogue will be sent on application to 

JOSEPH SWAIN, President. 


/V pBir\mn)cr)iEir)j Syllabus 

Twenty-four Progre>iSwe Lessons on the Elementary Prineiples of Parliamentary Practice. 

By Joseph T. Robert. 

Each lesson answers a series of perplexing questions in a definite and authoritative way. The little 

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Purdue University 

The Indiana Institute of 

Is an institution characterized by 
its thorough work and the combi- 
nation of theory and practice in 
its courses ; noteworthy for its 
extensive laboratories for Mechan- 
ical, Civil and Electrical Engi- 
neering, Chemistry, Biology and 
Pharmacy. .•. .•. .-. .-. .-. 

The institution embraces six special schools, as follows: 

I. A School of Mechanical Engineering. 
Including : 

(a) Shop Practice. (d) Hydraulic Engineering. 

(b) Machine Design. (e) Steam Engineering. 
(f) Transmission of Power. 

Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Mechanical Engineering/. 
II. A School of Civil Engineering. 

(a) Shop Practice. (d) Hydraulic Engineering. 

(6) Bridge Engineering. (e) Sanitary Engineering. 

(c) Railroad Engineering. (/) Architectural Engineering. 
I^eading to the Degree of Bachelor of Civil Engineering. 

III. A School of Electrical Engineering. 


(a) Siiop Practice. (d) Dynamo Construction. 

• • ■ / (b) Machine Design. (e) Installation and Management of Electric 

(c) Electrical Engineering. Railway and Lighting Plants. 

Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Mechanical Engineering. 

IV. A School of Agriculture. 


(a) Science and Practice of Agri- (c) Entomology. 

culture. (d) Agricultural Chemistry. 

(6) Horticulture. (e) Veterinary Science. 

, Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Science. 
V. A School of Science. 

(a) Biology. (d) Industrial Art. 

(b) Chemistry. (e) Sanitary Science. 

(c) Physics. 

Leading to the Degree of Bachelor of Science. 

VI. A School of Pharmacy. 
^' Including: 

- • (a) Pharmacy. {d) Prescription Practice. 

(6) Chemistry. (e) Botany. 

(c) Materia Medica. 
Leading to the Degree of Graduate in Pharmacy. 

Two year course, leading to the Degree of Graduate in Pharmacy. 

Two year and short winter courses in Agriculture. 

Eighty-three post-graduate courses in technical subjects offered to graduates of other 

Examinations for admission will be held at the University June 6 and Sept. I2, 1898. 

if you wish to go to college, send for Catalogue to Secretary Purdue University, La Fayette, 
Ind., or to 

JAMES H. SMART, President Purdue University. 


Indianapolis H'gh School 


George W. HUFFORD, Principal— Greek. 

LOIS G. HUFFORD, English Literature. 

ANGELINE P. CAREY, English— Algebra. 

Junius B. Roberts, Modern History. 
George W. Benton, Chemistry. 

Laura DONNAN, Civil Government— Political Economy. 

Charity Dye, English. , . 

AMELIA W. Platter, Algebra— Geometry. 
JOHN C. Trent, Algebra— Geometry. 
RODA F. SELLECK, Drawing. 
JOHN LAMAY, Physics. 

AGNES R. RANKIN, English— Algebra. 

EUGENE Miller, German. 

George W. Martin, Botany— Zoology— Geology. 
JOHN E. HIGDON, Geometry— Algebra. 

Robert C. NEWLAND, French— Latin. 

ARTHUR J. TAYLOR, Stenography— Bookkeeping. 

CHRISTIAN MauNTEL, Ancient and English History. 
Flora love, English. 



JANET P. Shaw, English— Algebra. 
ZELLA O'HAIR, English. 

FLORA E. DRAKE, Assistant in Botany. 

BENJAMIN B. JENKINS, Assistant in Chemistry. 
HARRY B. WELLS, Assistant in Physics. 
THOMAS A. Sims, Assistant in Physics. 

The High School Annual. 

Vol. II. No. J. 


May, 1898. 


THE constructive statesman is tlie prime 
mover in civilized society. Master 
in_e; every situation, he lays open the 
future, applies the experience of the past, 
and, through his keen perception, molds 
the character of a nation. He is calm as 
Reason, calculating as Wisdom, stern as 
Truth. Ever keeping abreast of his time, 
he leads in the march of national develop- 
ment. His superior understanding settles 
the sediment of national disorder, and his 
penetrating genius makes clear as heavens' 
sunlight the duties and responsibilities of 
the hour. Such an heroic ligure was de- 
manded in the period of our national birth. 
The humiliated sword of Cornwallis had 
conceded to the American people political 

■'■■This oration wan awarded first place among those de- 
livered at the State High School Oratorical Contest at Rich- 
mond, March 25, 1898. 

liberty, but political order was as yet a 
dream. The horrors of revolution had but 
yielded to the uncertainty of reconstruc- 
tion. Drunk with the intoxicating wine 
of a new-found freedom, the distorted 
vision mistook the phantom License for 
the fair form of Liberty. The law of the 
land was but a compromise with anarchy. 
Personal faction, born of individual dislike, 
usurped the seat of statesmanship; the sa- 
cred bandage was torn from the eyes <>f 
Justice. The statesmanship of 1787 hu- 
mored the liberty of extremes, disclaimed 
moral responsibility, repudiated honest 
debts, and in the name of right committed 
wrong. Such laxity, unquestione<l, grows 
with fearful rapidity, and Shay's rebellion 
was the natural consequence. Then Rea- 
son awoke, and Conservatism, the hand- 
maid of true Democracy, struck off, from 
the experience of the past, the most per- 
fect instrument o^ constitutional government 
that the world has ever seen. JTow came 


the crucial test — would it be accepted, or 
would the strong men of Valley Forge 
and Yorktown surrender to the baseness of 
a local jealousy? Had the country but 
escaped the despotism, of a monarchy to 
fall at last a victim at the feet of insane 
Democracy ? Would the fight for national 
independence result in the triumph of li- 
cense over law ? New York, the pivot of 
political power, swayed by the intensity of 
local pride, threatened to yield to the senti- 
ment of state sovereignty. To impede the 
national movement, powerful organizations 
sprang up in the city of New York like 
magic serpents, poisoning the purity of 
Reason with the red fangs of passion. 
Ah, how malignant Europe smiled at De- 
mocracy's terrible struggle for organiza- 
tion ! With what malicious sneers did she 
gloat over the rapid progress of disintegra- 
tion ! Had all the precious blood of a fear- 
ful reoolation been spilled in response to an 
idle whim ? 

But no; God rules the world! The 
great movements of political, social and 
moral progress have behind them the in- 
vincible legions of the eternal throne. The 
reformation was but God's purification of 
His church through the instrumentality of 
Martin Luther; the Pilgrim Fathers rid- 
ing prayerfully upon the wintry wave were 
in search of that religious freedom which 
the glory of God makes necessary ; for the 
lessening of man's inhumanity to man, God 
placed within the Virginia arsenal to fight 
for the redemption of a race John Brown, 
who had within his bosom the heart-beat of 
Divinity ; and so, at this critical moment of 
our career, Providence sent us a leader. 

A person, standing on the historic batiks 
of the romantic Hudson during the sum 
mer of 1791, might have seen a little vessel 
moving languidly down its sleeping 
waters. The air was heavy with the sweet- 
ness of flowers and forests, and song birds 
mingled their melody with the sighing of 

the perfumed air. At a table, within the 
seclusion of the cabin, sat a man small in 
stature but intense in an earnest purpose. 
His deep-set and serious gray eyes were 
dark with determination. His noble fore- 
head was seamed with thought. Taking 
up his pen, he began to write, and from 
that instant the clouds of prejudice began 
to scatter before the sunlight of Reason, 
for Alexander Hamilton had entered the 
lists in belialf of the constitution 

Born amid the luxuriant grandeur of a 
tropical isle, educated at Columbia Uni- 
versity, he had early thrown himself into 
the revolutionary struggle with all the 
fervor of his ardent nature; he had by his 
majestic eloquence urged on the people to 
resistance of British tyranny ; and. Victory 
having smiled upon our cause, he had 
written the call for the constitutional con- 
vention Even during the stormy days of 
war, his prophetic and statesmanlike vis- 
ion had penetrated the smoke of conflict, 
and his constructive faculties had builded 
for the future better than the present knew. 
From his well-ordered mind came the in- 
spiration of a nationality based upon lib- 
erty and justice. With the seer's intuition, 
he realized the possibilities of the new 
civilization; with the confidence of a seer, 
he threw himself into the struggle for 
political unity. He understood that sepa- 
rated aggregations of men, divided in in- 
terests, and governed by jealousy, must 
terminate in degeneracy and dissolution. 
He knew that the American continent was 
ordained of God for purposes divine ; he felt 
the ttirill of latent energy in the Ameri- 
can heart, and realized the potency of our 
liberty-laden atmosphere to create institu- 
tions for the uplifting of mankind. But 
he knew, too, that the most splendid army, 
without authoritative command, becomes 
an uncontrollable mob; knew that the 
American people must have a government 
powerful enough to compel obedience to 


its national laws. Hence, a national con- 
gress he would clothe in the royal purple 
of unquestioned power. Crystallizing those 
comprehensive ideas of government which 
had received the vindication of a thou- 
sand years, he introduced a new era in the 
evolution of political science. Constitutional 
liberty became more firmly seated on her 
throne. The dark night of chaotic conflict 
drew rapidly to a close. The threatening 
murmurs of anarchistic intent were lulled 
into silence by the melody of universal 
concord, and New York, standing between 
the darkness and the dawn, gave way for 
the golden sunburst of that auspicious 
morn when chaos acknowledged the 
humanizing force of order. 

The constitution was adopted — the Ham- 
iltonian dream went on trial. Far, far 
from tranquil was the path that lay before 
the new republic. A monstrous debt 
loomed up before the new-born nation like 
some adamantine mountain, grim and aw- 
ful. Against the outer wall of an empty 
treasury beat the discordant clamor for re- 
pudiation. Consequently Europe cata- 
logued us midway between anarchists and 
thieves. Business men mistrusted us as a 
nation unable to meet our obligations with 
ready payment. In the maintenance of 
any form of government, the mere sanc- 
tion and confidence of its citizens will not 
alone suffice; but behind this confidence, 
and supporting it, must stand the financial 
endorsement of the governed. Political 
and financial devotion are the twin neces- 
sities of nationality, and the financial world 
held aloof. Who could now obliterate this 
prejudice and unite every interest in sup- 
port of the trembling government ? Upon 
Hamilton, the constructionist, within 
whose nature political principle and mor- 
ality dwelt not apart, rested the eyes of 
destiny. Despising repudiation, he plead 
with capital, in the persuasive language of 
honesty, for its friendship and support. He 

knew that friendship necessitates confi- 
dence; that confidence flees from all save 
integrity ; knew that integrity demanded 
the payment of our debt, both foreign and 
domestic. Nor did he pause there while 
undivided sentiment sustained him; he re- 
solved upon the assumption of our State 
debts and was greeted with the clash of 
angry swords as the local leaders sprang 
to arms again. In an instant the old fight 
was on — centralization or State's sover- 
eignty ? Federal or State supremacy ? 
The opposition fought like despairing de- 
mons. " What," said they, " shall my 
State, free from debt, shoulder the obliga- 
tions of these foreign States ?" " What 
right," demanded they, "has this exterior 
thing called the Federal Government to 
impose upon one State the burdens of an- 
other ?" Then Hamilton, supported by con- 
stitutional authority, made answer: "The 
States have been merged into a majestic 
Union, subject to one code of laws, and 
under the protecting folds of one flag. 
The nation will assume the debts, and the 
debts ivill be paid.'' He had spoken, and 
the nation breathed. He spoke again, and 
up full armed it sprang to meet all emer- 
gencies. From that moment the nation 
possessed a vitality. With that action the 
great substantial business interests of the 
country began to rally to the government's 
support. The sentence of political leprosy 
fell unuttered from the lips of Europe and 
in the eyes of all mankind, we stood a re- 
generated people — the peer of the proudest 
that ever bore the banner of liberty. 

We were now a nation — grander far, a 
reputable nation. Hamilton's policy had 
imparted strength to the national fabric, 
and the united country but awaited the 
further touch of his hand to make it glow 
with awakened energy. The wisdom of 
foresight and the power of execution he 
would unite as one. To his comprehensive 
understanding of political principles he 


added a thorough knowledge of social and 
industrial laws, all of which he was 
anxious to apply to patriotic purposes. 
Casting his observing eye over the wide 
national domain he saw fertility in weeds, 
rushing streams unbridled, nature's match- 
less benefits ignored. He perceived capital 
in nature. In American muscle he beheld 
the power of labor. Through the implied 
constitutional powers, calling into play a 
protective tariff, he harnessed capital and 
labor by governmental methods, and, lo ! 
the fires of industry began to glow in new- 
made furnaces; the unworked mountains 
to yield up their treasures; while in the 
sunny fields between, the verdant product 
of the plow danced and fluttered in the 
genial summer wind. 

History can not overestimate the real 
magnitude of Hamilton's services in form- 
ing and riveting the bonds of union. His 
statesmanship made us one compact peo- 
ple, imparted the impetus of internal de- 
velopment, gave us a basis of legislation 
as broad as the nation, and lodged in a 
centralized authority the power to enforce 
the national laws. 

Alexander Hamilton possessed the im- 
perial power of a Pitt, without his selfish- 
ness; the majestic eloquence of a Fox, 
without his vices ; a Sheridan's brilliancy, 
without his excesses ; a Curran's forensic 
splendor, without his exaggerations, while 
•within his wizard hand he held the organ- 
izing bond of a Richelieu, without abuse. 
Conservatism, foresight and understanding 
were the predominating features of his 
statesmanship, and owing to the force of 
his towering personality these are the fea- 
tures that have been everlastingly crystal- 
lized in our laws and precedents. 

Now, what mean the public services of 
Hamilton after all? They mean, briefiy, a 
national life, a national development, a 
national vitality. To-day, when treason- 
able designs are being hatched in the 

seething ferment of social unrest ; to-day, 
when the vampire of pitiless poverty is 
driving honest men to unmeaning viola- 
tions of the laws they themselves create; 
to-day, when the European proletariat is 
stirring up within the heart of American 
labor the smouldering fires of passionate 
resentment and insane hatred; aye, now 
that red-eyed anarchy threatens to break 
its chains and wrap our lives, liberties and 
industries in the heartless flames of social 
insanity, the stern, saving Hamiltoniaa 
powers of constitutional resistance stand 
forth, the stubborn Gibraltar of our na- 
tional defense. 

Necessary to the conservation of personal 
rights is the democracy of a Jetierson ; l)ut 
the clear, calm conservatism of a Hamilton 
is indispensable to organized society. 
Jeft'ersonian democracy means individual 
liberty ; Hamiltonian conservatism stands 
for the majesty of recognized law. When 
the serpent head of treason was first up- 
reared in New England, the constructive 
statesmanship of Hamilton cried " Down !"■ 
and it glided away for concealment into 
the jungles of the southland. When, in 
opposition to the lawful enforcement of the 
excise law, treason and anarchy combined 
for the destruction of law and order, Ham- 
ilton's provided powers steeled the arm ot 
Federalism to a triumphant resistance. 
Hamiltonian precepts gave the impetus to 
the immortal Lincoln's stirring appeal to 
the God of battles ; aye, and a Hamiltonian 
inspiration urged men over the hills and 
through the vales in stern response to that 
patriotic command. When of late, in the 
imperial city of Chicago, the element of 
lawlessness broke loose, defying the na- 
tional Government, threatening the very 
existence of authority, Grover Cleveland, 
falling back upon the Hamiltonian powers 
of national supremacy, met it with the iron 
hand of Federalism, and disorder gave way 
once again to the benign influence of the law. 


In the centuries to come, replete with 
rich prospects, the inquiring stranger, 
casting his eyes over happy and contented 
homes, may ask: "In whose majestic mind 
originated this splendid dream of liberty 
with law marching harmoniously down 
the centuries ? Whose master hand touched 
the slumbering wheels of industry and set 
them to tune? The singing of the engine 
of commerce, sweeping with poetic rhythm 
from ocean to ocean and from lakes to 
gulf — whose brain could conceive it? 
Whose arm prepare the way? And this 
sublime union of the sovereign States — 
who so broad-minded, so far-seeing, as to 

have pierced the veil of futurity and bound 
them with a common interest?" 

And then the voice of history may 
proudly make reply : "Alexander Hamil- 
ton was the nucleus of it all ; his was the 
dream that linked liberty and law ; the 
harmonious songs of industry going up 
from hill and valley but sing of his states- 
manlike genius; the grand, intricate net- 
work of commerce is but the realization 
of his ideal ; and the Union — the Union is 
but the crystallization of his logic and the 
everlasting monument to the memory ot 
his immortal mind." 

Claude G. Boavers, '98. 


nr\ RS. MULLIGAJS'' was scrubbing the 
I I I front steps (it was a semi-annnal 
' ^ event and occasioned some excite- 
ment), when the postman's whistle was 
heard around the corner. At this sound, 
Mrs. Mulligan rose from her knees, wip- 
ing her hands, preparatory to taking the 
mail. The little seamstress, who occupied 
Mrs Mulligan's first floor front, rose too, 
and going to the window pushed open tlie 
mos(|uito-netting screen and began to trim 
her window garden. It was a very modest 
window garden — ^^just a pot of geranium, 
with a single scarlet flower. 

The seamstress had lived here for a long 
time, even before Mrs. Mulligan took that 
house in the brifik row for the purpose of 
renting out rooms. She did fine sewing 

for a big dry goods store down town, and 
was looked upon by the people in the 
row as a person of some distinction. She 
was only a faded little Englishwoman, 
whose dream of heaven was the remem- 
brance of her old English home with its 
cuckoos and its primroses. 

" Good morning," said the postman, tak- 
ing otf his hat as he came up. The seam- 
stress bowed and smiled. 

"Any mail for me this morning?" she 

" iSTone for you this morning," was his 

For more than fifteen years the seam- 
stress had asked this question twice every 
day, and each time she received the same 
answer. Who, indeed, was there to write 
to her? Yet she always aflected surprise 
and a little pique at his " None this morn- 
ing, ma'am." 


To-day the postman looked so genuinely 
disappointed, too, just as if she were accus- 
tomed to get a letter every day, that she 
broke off the red geranium and proffered 
the nose-gay to him across the railing. 

" See," she said, "this is for you because 
it is the first day of summer." 

" So it is," said the postman ; " thank 
you," and he went down the street with 
the flower in the button-hole of his gray- 
blue coat. The seamstress returned to her 
work with two geraniums in her sunken 
cheeks in exchange for the one at the win- 
dow. She was not left long in peace, for the 
children of the neighborhood, balanced on 
the railing outside her window, piped in 
eerie voices : 

" Didche gitcher letter ? " " Oh I say, ol' 
maid, didcher letter come? " 

Her years of waiting for a letter was a 
standing joke. 

" I don't care," she said, when she heard 
the children, and she jerked her needle 
with the nervous, hurt, little movement 
that showed so plainly that she did care. 
" But I wish I would get a letter, I do. 
What they must think of me! I don't 
care. He must think I'm an awful friend- 
less sort of person. Pooh ! What if he 
does? A poor, lorn old maid. Well, I 
can't help it. But I wish I would get a 
letter — some time." 

" I will not go to the window this after- 
noon," she resolved, but when she heard 
the whistle she dropped her work and stood 
behind the forlorn flower-pot." 

"But I will not speak to him," and as 
the postman came up the steps, there was 
the same old question — 

" N^othing for me this afternoon, Mr. 
Pippin?" and the same old answer — 

" N^othing this afternoon." The children 
ran and hooted in the streets, " OF maid, 
ol' maid, nothin' for you this afternoon." 

The seamstress turned from the window 
with a despondent sigh. What mast he 

think? Of course she did not care. Wot 
she ! But she did not like to be pitied, 
even bj^ a postman. She wished again that 
she might get a letter for appearances' 
sake. Why not write a letter to herself? If 
it were only for the opinion of the neigh- 
bors and the postman that she cared, the 
outside of an epistle would be sufficient. 
They need never know the inside. The 
unique idea slowly forced itself upward in 
her brain. She opened her top bureau 
drawer and after a moment's search, pro- 
duced a fly-specked sheet of gilt edge note 
paper and an envelope, sallow with age. 
She looked at it retrospectively. What 
should she iwr/fe? Nothing, of course. She 
started, hastily, to fold the sheet and slip 
it into the envelope. What a wicked 
waste of material ! And she had saved it 
so long. She poised a stubby pencil over 
the paper, lowered it rigidly and began — 

" My Dearest One—" 

She was writing her first love letter, and 
to herself. 

Monday morning came and it was evi- 
dent that the seamstress was excited. She 
came often to the window to look up the 
street. At last the postman's whistle was 
heard and his gray figure appeared at the 
corner. Promptly, too, appeared the little 
seamstress at her window. She was agi- 
tated, with a trembling smile anchored to 
her lips, lips trying to form the old ques- 
tion. The postman was profiering a letter 
to Mrs. Mulligan at the door. 

" Miss Jane Amelia Smiley," he read. 
"Is she a newcomer?" 

Mrs. Mulligan was literally dumb, but 
the seamstress stretched out her hand. 

" That's me," she said ; " it is for me. I 
am Miss Jane Am.elia Smiley." 

At last " or maid Smiley's " letter had 

It was but the beginning. Every day 
for three weeks a letter was brought for 
Jane Amelia Smiley. All the people 


wondered. The postman was morosely reti- 
cent on the subject. He would not even 
tell from where the letters were. Mrs. 
Mulligan was ready to swear that they 
were from the same person, and that a 
man. Ah, Jane Amelia Smiley, to what 
depths of deceit have you fallen ! 

Every day she made a visit to a far-off 
mail box, and the pile of letters in her top 
bureau drawer steadily rose, tumbled over 
into two piles and a third was beginning — 
letters all signed by that mysterious " P.'' 
up I" What an unsatisfactory initial! 
Pippin begins with a "P." So does post- 
man. But that is a coincidence. The 
epistles grew more arduous. When the 
third pile in the top bureau drawer com- 
menced, things had reached a crisi?. 

Mr. Pippin, in his bachelor apartments, 
sat solemnly on the Complete Works of 
Lorenzo Dow, between the leaves of whose 
Essay on Matrimony was a red geranium, 
and ruminated. That very evening Jane 
Amelia wrote what was destined to be the 
last of that voluminous but one-sided cor- 
respondence. It was, in fact, I blush to 
tell it, a proposal of marriage. 

She went out to mail the letter at a late 
hour. The red post-box was conspicuous 
in the electric light and she lingered in 
the shadow, for there Avas a man at the 
box. A postman, she saw by his uniform, 
come to take up the mail. She was sori'y 
that she had missed him. I^o, he was put- 
ting in a letter. How funny ! He turned, 
and when she saw his face she fled precipi- 
tately homeward, dropping her letter in a 
box at the corner. 

ISText afternoon an event occurred sec- 
ond in importance only to the time that 
the seamstress's first epistle arrived, for 
Miss Jane Amelia Smiley received two let- 
ters. Mr. Pippin poked them into Mrs. 
Mulligan's hands and trotted hastily down 
the street. 

" Two letters for you this morning," 

Mrs. Mulligan announced, appeai'ing at 
the door. 

" Two letters ! " said Jane Amelia. Mrs. 
Mulligan was obliged to retire with curi- 
osity unsatisfied ; but no sooner had the 
gingham expanse of that worthy lady's 
back disappeared, than the seamstress 
grabbed the letters, tlie letter, and fell to 
laughing and crying. 

" Some one,'' she sobbed, " some one has 
written to me. I have got a really letter. 
This ain't a pretend. Somebody has writ- 
ten to me. Oh, I am glad-glad." 

She was more glad when she opened and 
read, wondering and incredulous, the con- 
tents of that brief note. Shortly after, 
Mrs. Mulligan, listening at her door, heard 
the scratch of a pen. The seamstress was 
writing her last love letter, and this not to 
herself. Then she emptied the drawer, 
and one by one burned all that budget of 

" He shall never know," she vowed, tear- 
fully smiling at the heap of gray ashes, 
" he shall never know." 

Yet one day Mr. Pippin learned who 
his rival really was. 

Myla Jo Closser, '99. 


IT is 2 :15 o'clock on a cold Saturday aft- 
ernoon as I stand beneath the great 
train-shed of Union Station, near its 
eastern entrance. Far before me stretches 
the vast, oblong field of tracks which lie 
between the faultlessly clean and smooth 
platforms — platforms which, running from 
entrance to entrance of the doorless struc- 
ture, are so uniformly level, that were it 
not for the beds of intervening rails, they 
would form one great extensive plane. The 
long series of sturdy iron girders arching 
high overhead, support a far-reaching, 



smoke stained roof which tempers the pro- 
tecting sliade it spreads over the vast plane 
below with the blending light of a number 
of large translucent sky-lights. Extend- 
ing from the spacious baggage department 
at the eastern extremity of the train-shed 
to the far-away baggage department at the 
western extremity, is a high iron picket 
fence, beside which may be seen the win- 
dow-walled restaurant booths tempting 
hungry stragglers with their artistic dis- 
play of toothsome edibles. 

There is a lull at the present moment in 
the bustle and activity of the day. Pas- 
senger trafhc is entirely suspended. JSTot 
so much as a car is to be seen within the 
train shed, save where near the western 
end of the depot a solitary dark brown 
dining-car broods forlorn and dejected in 
its lonely shadow, and where unconspicu- 
ously against the eastern baggage room 
there stupidly sulks a windowless baggage 
car, apparently embarrassed at being seen 
witliin that stately hall soon to be occu- 
pied by nobler types of railroad structure. 
Beyond tlie depot, as far as I can see in 
either direction, where the tracks, confus- 
ing and uniting themselves in intricate 
systems of switches, make their way 
among factories and foundries and ware- 
houses that seem to have crowded aside in 
respectful deference to those iron bonds 
which bind our city to the world of com- 
merce and civilization, as far as I can see, 
the winter's snow, but scantily adulterated 
as 3'et, soothes the rail-tortured ground 
with its equitable whiteness — a whiteness 
quite vividly in contrast with the clean 
shade within the depot. 

Although there are no train movements 
within the train -shed, yet a vagabondish 
train of freight cars is droning along the 
track which lies along the outside of the 
station. The cars are drawn hy a churlish 
little switch-engine which, wabbling back- 
wards, pulls the long row of large " Ijoxes- 

on-wheels " in the same greedy manner in 
which a young pup drags some heavy ar- 
ticle of clothing about the floor. 

How ridiculously the little engine strug- 
gles with the long train before it ! How 
it snorts and stamps and squeals and hisses 
to attract attention — like all insignificant 
things. But ere long the freight train 
dwindles out of sight behind an old weather- 
stained freight depot, and leaves the scene 
clear for the noble contrast scheduled soon 
to arrive. 

Yes, it is evident that the lull in the 
depot's activity is soon to come to an end. 
Employes of every duty are beginning to 
return from the waiting and baggage 
rooms, where they have occupied the pre- 
cious leisure in escaping the rigor of the 
weather. Gatemen are already at their 
P'ists. Baggage attendants are busily ar- 
ranging trunks and boxes in front of the 
baggage room just beside me, while near 
the iron gates the negro janitors are, 
through mere habit, mopping up the broad 
passway, which is soon to be covered by 
crowds of passengers. 

But hark! From far in the west come 
three long, voluminous, but calm sounds 
of a double whistle; soon the puff" and 
rumble of an approaching train strikes the 
ear. A minute more and the front of a 
locomotive, so gigantic as to entirely con- 
ceal everything behind it, emerges from 
the wintry mists that obscure the frozen 
distance. Wi'h every puff' the iron giant 
speeds nearer and nearer. More and more 
distinct grows the huge form. Louder and 
louder waxes the peal of the bell and the 
roar of the moving train. Each movement 
more clearly reveals the mightiness of that 
structure of living iron as it steadily pro- 
ceeds, diffusing from its high-poised smoke- 
stack a long trail of smoke lingering 
behind in small, short-lived clouds. 

A man has run to adjust the switch — how 
small the man seems beside the train, yet 



with the greatest ease he determines the 
path over which the train will be com- 
pelled to pass. The engine, graceful as it 
is mighty, swings into the path assigned it 
and is headed straight into the train shed. 
A train of massive, elegant cars is revealed 
curving majestically from the switch, and 
following with a rumble of peaceful submis- 
sion in the exact footsteps of their proud, 
tremendous leader. 

Even l)efore this can be said, the engine 
has entered the train-shed. How digni- 
fied, how stately, how awe-inspiring the 
huge locomotive looms before me as it 
slowly proceeds through the depot ! Quite 
in harmony with the stately, uniform mo- 
tion of the train, its loud bell swings 
slowly to and Iro, each decisive stroke re- 
verberating its message of warning 
throughout the depot. The whole train- 
shed seems to resound its welcome. The 
obstructing iron gates have disappeared 
into the fence, leaving the passage free be- 
tween the train-shed and waiting depart- 
ments. Employes hurry to their respective 
posts of duty to be on hand in time. But 
huph ! The proudly moving giant has 
suddenly become enraged. It, no doubt, 
finds the shadow and restraint of the depot 
somewhat irksome after its long ran 
through the white country in the open air. 
With deafening thunders, it crashes forth 
dense clouds of carbonous wrath from its 
heated heart. A dread falls over every- 
thing. But not long, for, as the engine 
advances but a few paces, its anger gently 
subsides. The black smoke, expanding 
upward, becomes purified and pervades 
the iron rafters with cloud-like folds, 
whose presence overhead seems to charm 
away the rage of the mighty locomotive. 
Without slackening its motion, the train 
continues through the train-shed as thongh 
it had no intention of stopping. In its 
august pride it ignores the broad pass- 
way which its path intersects. Nor does 

it heed in the least the iron gates and 
waiting-room to its left; but each ring of 
the bell, each mighty stride of the ponder- 
ous piston, brings it nearer the east end of 
the depot where I am standing. I hear 
the giant panting loudly after its exer- 
tions, the air brake is slashing vigorously 
up and down within its mysterious little 
cylinders. I discern upon the front of the 
high-built boiler the great golden figures, 
"1(34," like a coat of arms upon the shield 
of an ironclad knight. Gradually the 
train slackens up; and now, when the 
throbbing, steaming engine has arrived 
directly beneath the tall eastern entrance 
of the train-shed, the entire train, heaving 
one long, loud sigh of relief, comes to a 
standstill as the brakes check the mo- 
mentum of the wheels. 

Now commences a scene of activity, in- 
dustry and life such as no other locality of 
the city aflbrds. Even before the train 
ceases to nii^ve, the truckmen push their 
heavy wagons up to the broad, open doors 
of the baggage car, where, working with a 
pleasing alacrity and dispatch, they are 
assisted by the baggage and express mas- 
ters within the wheeled warehouse, in 
piling their trucks with trunks and boxes. 
Mail clerks are on hand to receive the 
great leatheru mail bags which Avere 
thrown from the car while it was yet mov- 
ing. Prompt, accurate and methodical is 
every movement, yet free from all con- 
fusion or formali'y. 

Far into the depot extends the long, 
brown train in all its solid magnificence. 
The stalwart, many-windowed cars are 
linked by massive door-paneled vesti- 
bules. The passengers, all clothed in dark 
winter garb, are descending from the steps 
of all the cars, and are swarming down the 
platforms like bees from their hives. All 
drift toward the open gateway, whence 
the}' pass out of the depot into the winter- 
whitened streets, there to be dissolved in 



the city's throng. Meanwhile otlier pas- 
sengers are refilling the train, which is soon 
to I'esume its journe3^ Who can say what 
thoughts of love and malice, joy and sor- 
row are animating those various faces? 
What purposes of duty and pleasure, good 
and evil impel those heterogeneous throngs 
in those common sanctuaries of travel ? 

But standing so near the engine and so 
far from where the passengers are, I am 
fascinated chiefly by the nohle locomotive 
looming in the depot entrance and gently 
breathing its Avavering mists of soft, white 
steam, which becomes so dense in the cold 
air as to conceal at times whole portions of 
the large but precisely shaped machinery. 

I can almost feel the iron majesty of 
that colossal form. See how its Cyclopean 
eye glances undeviatingly down the snow- 
inlaid tracks straight before it. It appears 
to be overlooking the course upon which 
it is soon to start. Indeed, it may truly be 
said of a great passenger engine that there 
lingers a subtle spirit of humanity in its 
mien and conduct. As we have seen, hu- 
man physical motions, human power, hu- 
man stateliness, human pride, as well as 
human wrath and weaknesses, are depicted 
in its movements and attitude. The stal- 
wart locomotive has evidently partaken of 
the spirit of its gifted devisers. Looking 
upon the noble structure, who can fail to 
experience a grateful recollection of the 
patience of a Watts, the perseverance of a 
Stephensou, the genius of an Oliver 
Evans, the sum of whose efforts gave us 
this wonderful invention? Who is not 
profoundly reminded of the great manu- 
facturing, agricultural and scientific move- 
ments fiourishing in our laud — of the de- 
mand of civilization, voiced by the din of 
world-controlling stocks and money ex- 
changes, which makes the construction of 
all railroads possible? Even more than 
this may be gleaned from a great modern 
locomotive. Man's relation to his Maker 

is immaturely illustrated by the engine be- 
fore me. When God fashioned man for 
His service, " la the image of God created 
He him." Quite similarly has man in de- 
signing this iron servant of his imparted 
to it some of his own greatness, some of 
his own power, some of his own spirit. 
Moreover, as a spark of the Creator resides 
in man's soul guiding and directing him 
through life, so does man, the creator of 
the locomotive, exalted in the windowed 
cab, guide and direct the engine according 
to his judgment. Were it not for the 
engineer, who, at this moment, reclines 
from the cab window awaiting the con- 
ductor's signal to start, what service would 
the engine be fit for? Without some hu- 
man hand to regulate the throttle, to direct 
the lever, and to adjust the brakes, the 
engine would be useless. Were it not for 
the fireman, who is at this moment feeding- 
coal to the glowing furnace, how could the 
locomotive obtain the vitality that gives it 
such tremendous power? 

But now the bell has again begun to 
ring to and fro. The conductor has given 
the signal, and, with the engine entirely 
concealing itself in a mist of white steam 
which it loudly hisses from its cylinders as 
the piston starts into action, the train 
slowly and carefully begins to move, all 
the numerous wheels under the cars start- 
ing in one accord. One after another the 
cars, led rather than pulled by the engine 
(for it seems a voluntary motion on their 
part), pass from the depot's friendly shade 
into the white weather. In but a moment 
the stately locomotive, guided by the east- 
bound track, has curved out of sight and 
the cars are rapidly following one after the 
other from the scene. As I watch the 
swiftly departing train, the pufTs from the 
engine already far ahead grow quicker and 
quicker. Fainter and fainter becomes the 
sound of the bell, while with greater and 
greater rapidity the cars flash before my 



eyes, each with its list of human faces seen 
through the windows. Now the hxst car 
has left the train-shed, a glance will show 
that this car, now " rejoicing on its way," is 
the same "dining-car" which a few min- 
utes ago I saw forlorn and deserted near 
the west end of the depot. It has heen 
noticed by the charitable newcomers and 
has been enticed out of sight, for nothing 
is now to be seen but the elegantly vesti- 
buled rear of the train receding from view 
with a rapidity that is simply amazing. 
The train is gone, but it has left with me a 
delicious sense of satisfaction at having 
seen one of the most remarkable works of 
the mechanic's art of which the day can 
boast. The fairest dreams of the "Arabian 
Nights " have been outdone by this pro- 
duction of American genius. The most 
glowing visions of moving palaces have 
been realized in the palatial train which 
I have just seen. 

Mingling with the musically faint tones 
of the bell of the far-away locomotive, 
now come the solemn vesper chimes of the 
near-by cathedral, floating through the 
depot. At this moment a swath of sun- 
shine, escaping from the thinning clouds, 
steals through a crevice in the depot's roof 
and transforms the cumulous veil of smoke 
(lingering from the engine) into" a sea of 
living glory. Well may this moment be 
refulgent with such splendor, for the 
chimes of religion and the bell of industry 
are harmoniously blending. 

The afternoon depot scene bears a les- 
son. It is only when religion is supported 
by civilization, and only when industry is 
sanctified by worship and faith, that the 
ideals of mankind can be secured. 



Life is but a taugled web ; 

Each of us a thread unfolds ; « 

Over all and watching all 

The Master's guiding hand controls. 

In and out, and on and on, 

Each of us our life doth make ; 

Puzzles here, and blunders there, 

And sometimes, too, a deadly break. 

First with energ}' and zeal, 
Youthful, scorning all advice, 
Blindly, hastily, we weave. 
Thinking that it will suffice. 
Later, then, we slower weave, 
Learning by experience ; 
Just, though hard and seeming cruel. 
Yet having lasting influence. 

When the end is drawing near, 
Patiently we trust in One ; 
Calmly waiting without fear 
Till He shall say our task. is done. 

Class Poet, Feb., '98. 


" Be noble ! and the nobleness that lies 
In other men, sleeping but never dead. 
Will rise in majesty to meet thine own." 


\ [ Talking along the I-Ilgh School 
>^ corridor, you frequently see an old 
gentleman, slightly bent, perhaps 
from age and stooping. lie still walks 
briskly and energetically. His gray beard 
and mustache completely cover his mouth. 
His eyes peer from under his gold-rimmed 
glasses and white, bushy ej^ebrows, to see 
if anybody is lingering in the hall. A lit- 
tle red bicycle cap covers his gray hair, and 
the rest of his clothing is blue. He seems 
to be a person of great authority, for if he 
sees you loitering he is apt to bid you go 
to your room; in fact, he is very " Biddy.' 

e". W., '00. 





I am no prol'essin' Christian of the sort the cities hold, 
Hain't been gathered with the chosen in the church's 

sacred fold, 
An' I never groan in spirit while a thinkin' o' the way 
That the reckless onbelievers sin around me every day. 
All the creed I try to practice is the ol'-time Golden 

Eule ; 
Never hear no sacred music but the breezes fresh an' 

An' the only church o' worship onto which my fancy 

Is the outdoor church o' Nature, whar' the Lord's a 

runnin' things. 

I kin git more soothin' comfort from the music o' the 

Than the preachers o' creation ever rassled out o' books, 
An' the sighin' o' the breezes an' the singin' o' the birds 
Brings a sort o' Christian feelin' you kin never git from 

There is sermons in the sunshine, there's discourses in 

the flowers, 
There is a heavenly baptism in the gentle springtime 

Tliere is life an' inspiration in the brooks an' in the 

Out in Nature's sanctuary, whar the Lord's a runnin' 


When I'm ridin' on the night-herd every star that 
gleams above 

Seems a sparklin' gem that's speakin' o' the Master's 
kindly love ; 

An' the Hashin' o' the lightnin' an' the thunder's mighty 

Tells me o' the power majestic an' the Bein' I adore. 

When the storm in awful fury is a howlin' in its wrath, 

Like as if 't'd sweep the cattle jes' like feathers from its 

I'm contented as the sage-chicks underneath their 
mother's wings, 

Out in Nature's big cathedral, whar' the Lord's a run- 
nin' things. 

When I hear the final summons sent to tell me I must go 
To the round-up in the heavens from the ranges here 

Not a song nor not a sermon, nor a ceremonious play, 
Do I want in the proceedin's when my body's laid away. 
I would ruther, far, be buried on the ranges all alone. 
With the spot whar' I 'm a sleepin' never marked by 

board or stone, 
So's when Gabriel sounds his trumpet I kin rise an' 

spread my wings 
From the grassy slopes o' Nature, whar' the Lord's a 

runnin' things. 

F. Takkington Baker, '96. 

THE American Indian has been for many 
years a fascinating study, so I was 
delighted to find myself for some 
days, last summer, quite near a reservation 
of a northern Michigan tribe. The inhab- 
itants about there said it was three-quar- 
ters of a mile by land to the settlement, 
and it seemed scarcely half the distance 
across the arm of the lake to the point 
where its little white Catholic church shone 
against the dim landscape, a pure reminder 
of the power which makes and unmakes 

One afternoon, when the rain and wind 
would not permit the most intrepid fisher- 
man to venture on the lake, I prevailed 
upon my friends to visit the enchanted vil- 
lage of dusky braves and dark eyed beau- 
ties. We started up the road into the 
" dim forest," I first, as chief instigator of 
the plan, under the protection of a family 
umbrella of vast dimensions and a small, 
red-headed boy who was "eight years old," 
he said, but wise for his years. He knew, 
I think, that it was three muddy miles to 
the village, though he persistently an- 
swered to our inquiries that "it was just 
a piece." 

In order to be full}- prepared for charac- 
ter-study in the red man, I began to prac- 
tice on the youthful Hibernian who shared 
my umbrella. He was, indeed, a type. 
His eyes were blue, his mouth large, and 
his nose of sueli insignificant proportions 
that I wondered whetherit were not an over- 
grown freckle from the plentiful crop 
which served him as a complexion. Manly 
traits were manifest in him, however, for 
in the thickest of the wood when the rain 
wept most dismally, and the older people 
had dropped a little behind, he took occa- 
sion to harrow me with bear stories of 
bloodthirsty beasts which prowled in that 
very vicinity. I asked him what he would 



do if a hungry Bruin should appear. Plis 
answer was prompt and unhesitating, full 
of scorn at my having any doubt as to his 
line of conduct, 

" Hoh ! " he said, " I'd run, I guess you'd 
just ought to see me run." 

I paused, not to compose an ode on the 
decline of chivalry, but to wait for my 
friends who, in spite of growing wrath 
and weariness, would, I felt sure, protect 

We soon emerged from the forest (?) 
and took our way along muddy bypaths, 
skirting sick cornfields. The first object 
of interest was the base-ball ground where 
the noble savage sought diversion, and 
next our guide pointed out, with all the 
zeal of his profession, the home of the In- 
dian chief, " Wind-Gust." It was a modest 
farm house with its chimney smoking like 
a peace-pipe. 

The climax of our small boy's enthusi- 
asm came when he brought me to a sudden 
stop, and, pointing to a neighboring in- 
closure, exclaimed, "There!" And there 
were several wild-looking porkers blink- 
ing out and squealing in the most approved 
19th century fashion. I looked first at the 
pigs, then at the boy, then back again. 
The resemblance was striking, and I was 
silent, fearing ofllense. 

" Them's Injun pigs," volunteered my 

"Oh, are they? Do they differ from 
ordinary pigs?" 

" Naw," was the impatient reply ; " but 
they'se Injun pigs." 

I summoned up some spirit and said : 
"How interesting!" And that budding 
specimen of manhood reveled in the bliss 
of self-satisfaction for the rest of the way. 
I have never seen an " Injun " pig since. 

The way was long, but at last we reached 
the village — a cluster of a dozen or so 
houses, a few "Injun" cows, chickens and 
like curiosities, but nowhere an Indian. 

The braves had gone berrying, the 
women were staying in out of the rain. 

At the first house we found a young 
man with his mother, who was indulging, 
I believe, in a headache. We could get 
neither baskets nor informa'ion there, but, 
from close observation, learned that the 
youth played the violin and was an ardent 
Republican. Glaring colored pictures of 
Mclvinley and Hobart decorated the walls. 
In leaving, I made these mental notes : 
"The Indian is degenerating. He is not 
dirty, not sullen, not even ignorant." 

At the next house there was a family of 
three — a young couple with a baby. They 
were all good-natured, and the parents 
were very proud of their child and took 
delight in my admiration of it und its be- 
longings, amongwhich I noticed especially 
an ingenious cradle, made of a blanket 
swung by ropes from the ceiling. The 
couple had several baskets, but did not 
seem anxious to sell them. They were 
sorry when we left. I think they wanted 
me to stay and admire the liaby. 

Notes from this house : "Indians strong 
in family affections; not mercenary. In- 
dian babies are sweet." 

We visited a number of houses, buying 
baskets as we went. At one place several 
children came and peeped down at us 
through a stovepipe hole in the ceiling, 
tumbling over each other to get a look at 
us who had come to look at theni. The 
mother scolded them good-naturedly, then 
returned to bargaining with us again. 
Site certainly was mercenary, and when she 
discovered that " white squaw " (so my 
guide introduced me) had no m re money 
for her, her good nature vanished. She 
reluctantly wove a few meshes of a bas- 
ket at our request, hough I think she 
feared we would steal the trade. My m'nd 
full of the rich tints of woodland, berries, 
and roots, I asked her how she colored her 
work so exquisitely. Her answer was 



brief and familiar — " Diamond Dyes " — but 
her aspect so sullen that I dared not even 
smile at this last blow to my tenderly 
cherished fancies. 

We paused onlj- once more on our weary 
way home, and we did not pause long then, 
for we had stumbled int© a veritable wig- 
wam of a house, full of dirty greasy 
squaws, greasy, dirty pappooses, dogs and 
cats, the furniture and atmosphere of the 
same qualities. Even our guide, who had 
remained stolidly unmoved so far, pro- 
]iounced these "Injuns" no good. 

Mournfully we trudged back to our 
log hotel on the lake. I was singularly 
indifferent as to whether I was devoured 
by strolling bears or not. We did not 
care to think or talk much; and even now 
we, who were together there, avoid the 
subject of Indian villages. But this, I 
think, I learned : The Indian is no longer 
a problem to be pondered and solved by 
the savants of civilization. He is himself 
civili/ed, and so, absolutely incapable of 
solution. Adelaide C. Lecklider. 


6 4 C'^E^^^^WHERE I go, traveling from 
L city" to city, and especially in Indi- 
anapolis, I find evidences of growth 
of an art spirit. In the northern part of 
your city, I see a new school building with 
architectural features. In this High School, 
there are numerous paintings on the walls, 
and room for others. I notice in the Art 
Department facilities of art instruction and 
reproductions of works of art, and I was 
particularly pleased to hear of the course 
in festhetics. None of this was done for 
me. Everything is a product of recent 
years, and these are evidences of a new art 
spirit in education. 

" This betokens an advance in educa- 
tional ideals. Previously, training to mili- 
tary power had the ideals of a soldier. 
Moral ideals made priests and preachers. 
Scholastic ideals made scholars. Bat all 
are giving way to the ideals of an aesthetic 

>[< ijc ;!< ;|; >{; 

" The twentieth century man's conduct 
will be governed by beauty. He will, on 
all sides of his nature, be developed. In 
view of this fact I urge you to train with 
reference to the new environment. Ob- 
serve nature, the coming of spring, the 
passing of seasons. See paintings, hear 
lectures and visit art exhibits. Prepare for 
the twentieth century. Older people have 
been shut out from this environment, and 
I bid you perceive and reflect upon art and 
the nature of beauty — the nature and pur- 
pose of beauty." 

The speaker then complimented Mrs. 
Carey for her efforts in this direction, and 
continuing his remarks, he said : 

" We know not whether our theories are 
right or wrong, but we are thinking about 
these things, and as long as we are think- 
ing we can feel confident of a healthy state 
of the movement. JSTow, let me give you 
my definition of beauty. This is my defi- 
nition of beauty : The ertect^ of beauty 
depend upon the presentment of a single 
object of thought which stimulates pleas- 
urably all the faculties of being, sense, 
imagination, emotion and intellect. You 
see I take the subjective side at once. [A 
brief recall of the significance of terms 
objective and subjective.] And I define 
beauty in terms of the eftect, according to 
the degree in which the stimulation is felt. 
The nature of the stimulation must be ex- 
citing. * * * Some intoxication is nec- 
essary. Yes, intoxication, ecstacy ; power 
to feel, to move. * * -^ All testhetic 
emotion is pleasurable. We start out on a 
bicycle ride. The ride is enjoyed at first, 



and we keep going and going. Then we 
get tired and the pleasure ceases. There 
is where the artist stops. We eat candy. 
For a time the candy tastes pleasant; then 
it gets distasteful. There is Avhere the 
artist stops. The musician avoids monot- 
ony or painful result. He avoids discord, 
for he must keep the stimulation within 
bounds of pleasurable action. 

;1; >\-. t- * * 

" In true art, all personality must be 
brought into activity. A sense perception 
is not all that there is of art. A poem, to 
be artistic, must arouse emotion. A great 
Avork of art stimulates all the faculties of 
being. It stimulates the whole personality. 

>[; ;!< >': 4: >K 

" I will read to you from Matthew Ar- 
nold's 'Dover Beach.' You don't know a 
single fact of this poem. Observe what 
comes to mind while I read. First, sense- 
impression ; then thought, feeling, and 
finally all the personality." 


I AM sitting in my east window look- 
ing out over the surrounding yards, 
now mantled in the white cloak of the 
hoary Frost King. How the trees and 
shrubbery glisten as the first rays of an 
early sun gleam through the morning mists. 
A church steeple far away to the east 
stands out clear against the roseate heav- 
ens, its spires sparkling, twinkling, all 
bejeweled with diamonds and precious 
stones. But nearer home my gaze is fas- 
cinated by the grotesque figures l^ature 
has assumed in this the festive season. 
Here an old Avoman, clad in Avhite cloak 
and gray hood, studded with glistening 
rubies, bends toAvard the earth as if to 
gather the twigs that lie scattered in the 
snow. Who can she be thus standing in 
her gay holiday garments gathering sticks ? 

Can it be old Mother Goose honoring us 
with a visit? Unlike the objects about 
her, she sways to and fro, as if to measure 
time; now bending low to earth as if in 
obeisance to some mighty king; now 
straightening upright with haughty bear- 
ing, and now swaying from riglit to left — 
a curious pantomime this ! 

I wonder whether she has spirited my 
dear old rosebush. There she stands upon 
the very spot where my eglantine has 
reigned for many a year. I love, in early 
spring, to see it covered with dainty pink 
flowers and drink in the exquisite SAveet- 
ness of its delicate fragrance. All summer 
it stands in green array, oflering cooling 
shade to the Aveai'y passer-by. In fall I 
Avatch eagerly for the red berries that peep 
in and out among the rich green foliage ot 
my tree. Yesterday I sat Avatching it as it 
bustled about festooning its hardy broAvn 
branches and long, graceful vines in holi- 
day attire. 

HoAV happy and cheerful it looked then, 
and I gazed and gazed, dreaming of hoAV 
it Avould stand forth to Avelcome the glad- 
some Christmas and defy the cold north 
Avinds that bend low the other bushes and 

Perhaps Avhen the Frost King departs 
tins queer old woman Avill also leave and 
send me back my dear old-rose tree to 
share the burden of my thoughts through 
future as through past years. 

Julia Ketcham, '99. 

' Endurance is the crowning quality, 
And patience all the passion of great hearts." 


"That best portion of a good man's life, — - 
His little, nameless, unremembered acts 
Of kindness and of love." 





I I IHY do girls go t" college? The rea- 
^■^ sons are almost as numerous as the 
girls themselves. Some deluded 
damsels go with the intention of having 
"a good time." I say deluded, because 
they soon find that the good times go hand 
in hand with a certain amount of very 
hard work which they had not included in 
their plans. 

On the other hand, let it be said that 
college life would lose its charm if the 
" good times " did not go hand in hand 
with study. There is a life at college that 
one gets nowhere else, and while we go to 
college primarily to study, and not to play, 
the play is as much a treasured part of 
one's memories as the rest, and Vassar is 
no exception. About the middle of Sep- 
tember the high school graduate lays aside 
her senior dignity, and with memories of 
commencement, white finery and crowded 
Tomlinson still fresh in her mind, journeys 
eastward to knock meekly for entrance to 
a freshman class once more. This time she 
does not even know the members of her 
own class at the start; everything is large 
and strange, unless she has visited " V. C." 
before. Once inside " Main," the old and 
orig nal big college building, she is met by 
some pleasant woman who guides her 
through the diHerent formalities of regis- 
tration, settlement with the treasurer, and 
assignment to room by Vlrs. Kt-ndrick, the 
laiiy principal, the college mother of six 
hund'cd girls 

Then this same friend sees the newcomer 
settled in her room, tells her what, the 
different bell soundings mean, and answers 
her inevitable questions, if she can. The 
Freshman finds out before long that these 
delightful beings who welcome Freshmen 
are no less than iSeni^rs; not high and 
mighty beings in a world of their own, 
but gt'uerous creatures who have given up 

the last precious days of vacation that they 
may return early to college as the Recep- 
tion Committee, expressly to take care of 
the Freshmen. 

Nor does this kindness cease here. They 
call on the Freshman, take her to chapel in, 
the Senior seats, and introduce her to their 
friends. Truly a much nicer introduction 
to college than the gentle art of hazing! 

By October tlie year's work is well under- 
way ; out of doors, basket ball teams are 
busy at fall practice, and the tennis tourna- 
ment is due about the 10th. 

And now the lake reflects the red and 
golden glories of the trees about her mar- 
gin ; down drop their dead leaves and 
cover all the glassy surface. The Doctor 
thinks it now too late to have the boats in 
use longer; these girls must not go \n 
damp places. "Walk more in the sun- 
shiny places, girls," is her advice; " the- 
lake walks and ihe glen are getting too- 
damp." And so the rowboats are stored 
till late spring. 

Before the autumn glory is quite gone- 
the Senior and Freshman classes make the- 
annual excursion for the day to Lake Mo- 
hawk, going there in huge open barges,, 
singing songs and composing yells to pass- 
the time — if the locality is not inhabited 
through which they are driving. Dinner 
is served at noon in the hotel, after which 
there is time to explore the beautiful sur- 
roundings, the lake and mountain paths. 

For these annual trips the Vassar girls 
are indebted to "Uncle Fred" Thomson^ 
of New York, a much beloved trustee, 
who does many good things for college- 
and students. At graduation he presents 
each Senior with a large gold and silver 
spoon, with her name engraved thereon, as- 
a parting college souvenir. Lie gave to- 
Vassar College its present library building. 

All Hallow Eve is anticipated with 
especial interest by Sophomores and Fresh- 
men. The Seniors decorate their tables- 



with candles and yellow pumpkin heads ; 
but the two lower classes have the real 
fun, for this is the time of the Sophomore 

One year each Freshman found an in- 
structive "Primer" in her piece of a false 
pie. This last year, in spite of the efforts 
of 1901 to find out the Sophomore con- 
spiracy, each member of '01 found in her 
napkin at dinner a neat booklet of " Rules 
for Etiquette," bound in a green color and 
full of all the " grinds " on 1901 that could 
be collected. 

Hallowe'en usually sees, also, a masked 
ball given by the Seniors or Juniors for 
the Freshmen class, when there is dancing 
and likewise taffy pulling. 

The Senior Parlor Opening comes also 
about this time, to which the Seniors invite 
the Sophomores. This parlor is at the 
end of a long corridor sacred to the rooms 
of Seniors, where under classmen are sup- 
posed to go only on business or invitation. 
Eacli new Senior class repapers and re- 
decorates this parlor anew, retaining only 
Matthew Vassar's desk and other pieces of 
furniture presented by tiie under classmen 
of former years, for each Sophomore class 
presents the Senior class with a handsome 
present to remain always in that parlor — a 
painting, rug, chair or picture, etc. Many 
of the Seniors lend things from their own 
homes for the year. Only girls of the best 
artistic taste are placed on the Senior Par- 
lor Committee, and it is considered an 
honor to be thus chosen. 

The Sophomore Party, in the first part 
of November, is given in honor of the 
Freshmen. Each Sophomore takes one or 
two Freshmen to the dance, fills out their 
programs, and sees that they are enter- 
tained. Before the dancing the Sophomore 
President makes a brief address of welcome, 
to which the other President responds, 
after which the two class glee clubs sing 
songs composed for the occasion. 

The Saturday night before Thanksgiv- 
ing sees the production of the first Hall 
Play of the year by the Philalethean So- 
ciety in its own hall — "Phil Hall." As 
many "alums" as possible of the class of 
the preceding June make it a point to be 
at Yassar for this play, and just before the 
curtain rises they enter in procession, 
greeted with a song in their honor from 
the Juniors. 

The Thanksgiving dinner is a mighty 
function. All remaining at Yassar dine 
that day in the big dining-room in Main. 
The tables are especially decorated, and the 
menu is a wonder in its length and va- 
riety. " Prexy '" sits at the head of the 
head table and replies good-naturedly to 
the inevitable calls for " Speech ! Speech ! " 

December is a lively month. The first 
Friday night brings long-expected "Phil" 
— the annual dance on the anniversary of 
Philaletheis. Each girl may invite one or 
more guests. 

At eight o'clock, there is a splendid audi- 
ence in the college chapel, assembled to 
hear an address on an interesting subject 
by some literary man. He is escorted to 
the platform by the fair president of Phila- 
letheis herself, who speaks a few words of 
presentation. A reception to the speaker 
follows the chapel ceremonies, and after 
that there is dancing until late. Yassar is 
in holiday attire, and there is gayety in its 
dignified corridors such as is known but 
twice a year. Among the guests are men 
from all the colleges, youths from " prep " 
schools, brothers and fiances, and straight, 
slim West Point cadets, whose uniforms 
lend distinction to the scene. The only 
forlorn person is the girl whose " man " 
was "unavoidably detained" at the last 

Next morning at eleven, the Glee, Man- 
dolin and Guitar Clubs give a concert. 
The afternoon is full of teas, promenades, 
drives or exploration of the grounds. 



On the Sunday after "Phil" comes the 
second Hall Play, and, on Sunday night, 
the Christmas music by the organist and 
Choral Club. The chapel is lighted only 
at one end, around the pulpit, organ and 
choir seats. When all the college is assem- 
bled, the far notes of a beautiful proces- 
sional are heard coming nearer and nearer? 
until the singers enter the dim chapel, two 
by two, each dressed in Avhite, and proceed 
slowly in pairs up the aisles, the great 
organ now joining in their song in deep 
harmonious crescendo At the end of a 
program of the best Christmas music the 
white-gowned singers leave their seats 
and go down the aisles, singing as they 
come. All sit quiet until the last faint har- 
monies of the recessional die away in the 
distance, and then one comes away with 
the feeling of having enjoyed some mys- 
tical service of another time. 

This is the Sunday night before the 
Christmas vacation. By Thursday, all is 
uproar. The dusty trucks have been 
brought out from storeroom and garret. 
Girls are packing and rejoicing, or hunt- 
ing excuses to get off a day sooner. Tlie 
ianitor and his assistants are prone to 
wish that trunks had never been invented. 
The lower corridors are choked with them, 
the platforms of the Poughkeepsie rail- 
road station, also; long processions of 
drays taking them to the train gladden the 
heart of the student. Lessons are a 
secondary consideration, except, perhaps, 
with the girl who is not going away. She 
is thinking how it will seem to see the 
other girls depart on Friday, and how 
much back reading, mending and letter- 
writing she'll do. In reality, she will have 
a pretty good time with the other thirty 
or forty who remain. Of course, it is not 
like going home, but she will have a bet- 
ter time than she expected, with sleigh 
rides, fudge parties and other good 

January is, as a rule, remembered for 
two things — skating and " exams." The 
frozen lake is aline place to spend an hour 
or two, especially for the girl who has 
been doing some "judicious reviewing," 
and is tired in consequence. Every one 
skates, from " Prexy " down to his own 
seven-year-old son, and the Doctor's little 
girl. Some Saturday night, if the ice lasts, 
the trees about the lake blossom out 
curiously in Chinese lanterns, while great 
bonfires cast a lurid light on the carnival 
of skaters, who wear short wheeling skirts 
and picturesque skating caps and jackets, 
made hastily for the occasion by a skillful 
use of cotton and red flannel. If the night 
is fine, it is a time one does not forget. 

In two weeks come the mid-year ex- 
aminations, or "the semesters." They can 
make a week lengthen out intolerably ; but 
it does end, somehow, and there is a 
breathing space from Friday to the Mon- 
day when the new semester opens. 

The first general good time in February 
conies on Valentine's Day. The Seniors 
wear white dresses and red ribbons to din- 
ner, decorate their tables in the heart's 
own color, and hang festoons of red paper 
hearts above the Senior tables up the mid- 
dle of the dining-room. During dinner, 
some one delivers the valentines which the 
girls have written to each otiier. No 
ready made valentines are considered ap- 
propriate; every girl must compose a val- 
entine for every other girl at her table, 
besides those she wants to send to her other 
friends. This last custom is not confined 
to Seniors, but is the duty of every girl in 
college, especially the Freshmen for the 
upper classmen. 

Very wonderful results can be produced 
with red ink, gilt paint and a little inge- 
nuity, though by- the time one has evolved 
appropriate verses for some ten or twelve 
sweethearts one is rather apt to be weary 
of sweet sentiments and cloying speech. 



" My heart is gone 

I know not where, 
I only know 

It is not there. 
But I surmise — 
Don't feign surprise — 
That it is near 
Your own heart, dear." 

And to an art student — 

" She lives in Minneapolis, 
And learns of the Acropolis , 
She has entire monopolis 
Of the beaux of the metropolis — 
And more than that on top of this — 
She is my Valentine ! " 

Soon following Valentine's Day is the 
third Ilall Play, and then comes George 
Washington's birthday. On the evening 
of February 22d, Lady Washington is at 
home in " Phil Hall." Her guests dress in 
colonial costume for dinner in the evening. 
The dining rooms are gay with flags; the 
tables are decorated with old-fashioned 
candlesticks, and red, vvhite and blue crepe 
paper, or ribbon, and at most tables there 
are dinner cards, to be preserved long after 
in one's " memory-bill " — which is " short " 
for Memorabilia. 

By the time all are at dinner the scene 
w^ears a decidedly colonial aspect. The 
Father of His Country sits at every table; 
likewise Marquises de LaFayette and other 
notabilities with cocked hats, uniforms 
and swords. Beside them sit stately Lady 
Washingtons and other colonial dames in 
high powdered coiffures, patclies, rouge 
and dainty iichus. Many of the gowns 
have been lent by grandntammas or great 
tiunts, or have been resurrected from the 
home attic for the occasion. 

About dessert time, some table strikes 
up "America" or "Yankee Doodle," the 
others joining in with patriotic alacrity. 
The singing of class songs or other appro- 
priate ditties at the tables, on certain great 
occasions, is permissible, and the etiect is 
very inspiring. 

By eight p. m. the various Generals and 

Mistress 8o-and-So's are on their way from 
each building to " Phil Hall." A grand 
march opens the ball, which lasts several 
hours, and closes with a good old Sir 
Roger de Coverley. 

Visitors at " V. C." on February 23, are 
always struck with the curious whitened 
appearance of each student's hair, and 
wonder if hard study is the cause of this 
phenomenon, until they are inf irmed that 
there was a Colonial Ball the night before 
and that powder does not shake out of 
one's hair in an hour. 

In March, a great event is the annual pub- 
lic debate between the two CollegeDebating 
Societies, " Qui Vive " and " T. and M." 
One is eligible to membership in one or the 
other by one's Junior year. If you belong 
to an even numbered class, such as '98 or 
1900, you join "Qui Vive;" if your class 
is odd, as '97 or '99, you become a member 
of " T. and M." 

The fourth Hall Play, important because 
the last, is given the Saturday night before 
the spring recess commences. Girls ap- 
pear in these phiys whose work is in good 
condition and whose talent has been proved 
in the chapter p'ays. These are entertain- 
ing amateur dramatics on a small scale, 
given from time to time by the different 
chapters of <I>(/Lrx?u??Of($: Alpha, Beta, Theta 
and Omega. Any student is eligible to 
membership in Philaletheis, but must be 
elected to a chapter-membership by its 
other members. 

Even before the spring vacation the 
days are no longer wintry in their gloom. 
Pussy-willows may now be found in the 
thickets about the lake, and first bird notes 
are heard on the bright mornings. The 
country roads harden — and the road to 
town ; as a conveyance, dusty wheels are 
gotten out and cleaned, and the laughter 
of the golf-girl is heard again across green 
lawns. Basket-ball teams begin practice 
for the spring matches. 



The April days, after one returns to col- 
lege, see wonderful changes. The spring 
comes gently and beautifully in this happy 
Hudson country, and nowhere more 
sweetly than in the hills and dales about 
Yassar. By the end of the month the five- 
leaved ivy has almost covered the brick 
facade of the main building. If you will 
follow the road that leads away througli 
the cedars behind Music Hall and the 
" Lab," and cross the brook below, you 
find yourself on the slopes of Sunset Hill, 
where apples are ripe in the fall, and where 
wild fiowers abound in the springtime. 
Or you can reach Sunset Hill by way of 
the glen, a miniature mountain canon, 
where a rapid little stream, spanned by a 
rustic bridge, rushes between high banks 
fringed with the liiding May-apples and 
Jack - in - the - pulpits, and violets every- 

On Easter Sunday, students are at liberty 
to attend services in town. In the evening 
there is a service of music in the college 
chapel, like that at Christmas. 

It is not long now until Founder's Day, 
which is celebrated on the last Fiiday of 
April by an address and dance and concert 
similar to the celebration at "Phil" in 

May is with us before we know it. The 
days grow warmer and spring fever is apt 
to be prevalent until one remembers that 
the June " exams " are not so far off as 
they seem, which is reason for redoubled 
industry. But there is a great deal going 
on out of school : the boats are put out 
on the lake, and are much in demand for 
the long afternoons when the nicest place 
to study (or not to study) is in a well-cush- 
ioned boat moored beside a shaded bank 
Of floating lazily without guidance in mid- 

In May, the Sophomores choose their 
class tree and have secret ceremonies be- 
neath its boughs by night — secret, unless 

the prying Freshman has managed to find 
out about it all beforehand ; in which case 
she proceeds to make night hideous with 
triumphant yells in the immediate vicinity 
of the tree. 

Class spirit is at high pitch this time of 
year, for now come the ba'^ket-ball matches ; 
two on two successive Saturdays. It is al- 
ways the special ambition of the Fresh- 
men to defeat the Sophomores in basket- , 
ball. This they did last spring, and those 
will never forget the sight who saw the tall 
and fair young captain of 1900 borne away 
from the field of victory on the shoulders 
of her loyal players, while the air was saf- 
fron with the waving of yellow flags and 

On Field Day, class spirit reaches maxi- 
mum. The runners and jumpers and other 
maidens, attired in " Gym." suits, who 
show what the healthy American girl can 
do when trained, are spurred on to record- 
breaking achievements by the yells and 
songs of classmates. Even the faculty and 
instructors are interested in Field Day. 
Students alone do not crowd together in 
excited lines along the running course, 
and some "Facs." are always among the 
officers of the day. 

And then June comes, with sad joys for 
the Senior, and final Freshmen struggles 
in the way of exams. The freedom of the 
Senior from class work ten days before the 
other students is something rather mad- 
dening to the latter. The Seniors' exam- 
inations come a week before other people's, 
but they are, nevertheless, busy mortals, 
for every Senior is on some committee or 
other for commencement afl'airs. 

During this long planned for commence- 
ment week, the Senior is pre-eminent; she 
is the center of interest to under-graduatea 
and to the relatives and friends who 
proudly throng the groves and halls of old 
" Y, C." at this eventful time. To the under- 
graduate who has never seen them, the 


various commencement functions are im- 
pressive, even at the respectful distance 
which the under-graduate keeps at this 
time toward certain ceremonies. They are 
all interesting : Baccalaureate Sunday ; 
Mrs. Kendrick's dinner to the graduating 
class ; Class Day, both merry and sad ; the 
planting of the records under the tree 
chosen in the Sophomore year ; the com- 
mencement reception, and other gayeties, 
and finally the solemn, white commence- 
ment itself. 

Not "finally," either, ior the very last 
thing of all is the class supper on Wednes- 
day night, a time of last meeting and fare- 

well, toast and song, and the beginning of 
memories that never end. This is the 
night when the under-graduate sits up late 
to see if her Senior sister comes home from 
the supper with damp eyelashes ; wlien the 
Senior herself, no longer a Senior, really, 
but an " alum.," with her well earned di- 
ploma, lies awake at least a little while, be 
she ever so prosaic, thinking over the four 
years, and what they have meant and will 
mean in her new life, 

" In the wide, wide world." 

Theresa Vinton Pierce, I. H. S., '96. 




fY\ AY liei- remarkable ability and her 
ill unusual power be fally appreciated 
' ^ by all who meet her ! May her en- 
nobling influence be felt by many ! May 
her bright conversation be a source of 
great joy! May her high ideals stimulate 
her friends to greater eftbrts. 

The High School girl is one who has 
long been acknowledged to be a bright 
and an earnest student — even the boy ad- 
mits that she is his superior in scholarship. 
She is a girl with a great deal of school 
spirit. She is a member of all the associ- 
ations of the High School and takes an 
active part in the Debating Club and the 
Senate. At an oratorical contest, she waves 
the blue and white just as enthusiastically 

and shouts just as loudly as any boy. At 
home, she is either a musician or an artist. 
And remembering that 

"We may live without friends, we may live without 

But civilized men can not live without cooks," 

she develops her domestic tendencies to a 
certain extent and is invariably famed for 
her candy-making. 

And now may this High School girl, 
combining the intellect and the emotions, 
scholarship and enthusiasm, live forever in 
the minds and the hearts of her fellow- 
students and teaL-hers. May her bright 
smiles and her happy face, strong with 
beautiful character, continue to lighten 
the old corridors, and when she has gone, 
may her memory still be cherished by those 
who shall take her place, and may they live 
up to the high ideals which she has formed. 

J. C. II., '99. 



Bonn am Rhein, August 10, 1897. 

I AST night, as I viewed the wondrous 
I Seven Mountains from that old bas- 
^' tioii, "Alte ZoU," and saw them sil- 
houetted against the deep blue sky, with 
the light of the red-yellow moon falling 
over the " Drachenfels," reflecting it in the 
swift flowing Rhine below, as a dancing, 
weird shadow, I was tilled with a longing 
to know that frowning black ruin more 
closely. The music of the Philharmonic 
orchestra in Hotel Kley, the ring of so 
much good natured laughter and cheerful 
conversation all around me, might have 
added something to the enchantment of 

the scene, yet these seemed to buzz 
indistinctly in my ears. The ringing 
clink of the wine glasses, with an occa- 
sional hearty "Prosit!"* intermingled, 
seemed far off and also very much out of 
place, even in the hotel garden, for it 
seemed to me that such a wonderful bit of 
twilight painting called for quiet spec- 
tators. I thought old "Drachenfels"' most 
beautiful and determined upon riding over 
in the morning. 

This morning, after " Kaff'ee und Brod- 
chen," the German breakfast, I mounted 
my wheel and rode down Coblenzer Allee 
to the Rhine ferry, which soon had me 
transferred to the Beuel side of the river. 

The ride from Beuel to Konigswinter is 
tine — a smooth stretch of dustless macadam 
roadway, and perfectly shaded; of such a 
road any city might be proud, yet this is 
but one of the many excellent turnpikes 
that one finds all over Germany. All along 
the Rhine side of the chaussee are the 
most beautiful villas, with their gardens 
and fountains, their flower bowers and 
shad}' nooks. Between Beuel and Ober- 
kassel, one gets a splendid view of the new 
castle (which I believe is that of Prince 
Albert of Schaumburg-Lippe) ; it looks 
snug and cozy there, almost hidden away 
in the forest, midway up the mountain 

Kiinigswinter is a pretty summering 
place, bordered as it is on three sides by 
the mountains and on the fourth by the 
Rhine. To-day the streets were filled with 
strangers, and from the pleased expression 
which their faces wore I imagined that 
they were heartily enjoying themselves. 
The gay and light-hearted had out their 
bright, stylish equipages, and from the life 
and color this brought into play, one was 
greeted at every turn with sunshine and 

■■"'Good luck to you." 


When I disnioiuited at the station of 
the rack and pinion railroad, I was some- 
what tired, for the day was growing quite 
warm. Not caring to wait until 12 o'clock 
for the train to start, I determined to make 
the tour of the mountains on horseback, 
so of the many clamoring guides with 
horses I took my pick and started up. 

At last ! At last, I say, I reacheil the 
top. My feelings were none too tenderly 
handled by either guide or horse, and be- 
tween my, at times, almost frantic attempts 
to hold on to the saddle and to persuade 
the horse not to heed the onward urgings 
and goading of the guide, I had my hands 
full. How glad I was when the top of 
the Hirschberg was reached, you yourself 
must fancy. Fortunately there is an end 
to almost all things, and so there was to 

From the vantage point which the tower 
on the Hirschberg gave me, I saw each of 
the seven mounains well. Bonn, over 
yonder to the north, was a perfect picture 
viewed from this height, and as she lay 
there in the sunlight, hugging the bank of 
the Rhine, she looked serene and quiet, 
little reminding one of a typical German 
university town. 

To my left lay tlie relatively new castle, 
Drachenburg, in all its modern splendor; 
and in the wooded park which surrounds 
it 1 espied quite a number of deer. Grand 
and costly as this residence is, it lies vacant 
from one year's end to the other. 

I felt more than tired upon reaching the 
summit of the *' Drachenfels." I'll admit 
I felt not a li'tle bruised, for I am any- 
thing but a horseman, and the ride up and 
down the none too even mountain paths 
made me wish from the depths of my heart 
that I had waited for the train. 

Dismounting, I heaved a sigh of great 
relief, and sinking into a seat near by, I 
looked about eagerly for something with 
which to quench my intense thirst. Over 

there at the restaurant tlie beer, as it was 
drawn, looked so sparkling and cool that I 
did not hesitate to partake of it. The cool, 
refreshing beverage (the like of which we 
know not at home) was most certainly 
enjoyed, and as I sipped of it now and 
again, I thought of Hawthorne's " Town 
Pump." I smiled at the thought. I knew 
were Mr. Pump here, he would stop fling- 
ing his stiff arm so frantically about his 
hollow pate, and pfill his hackneyed cry to 
the people, for if his nose once scented this 
creamy extract, he would join me most 
heartily in saying that the Teutons know 
the art of brewing. 

Looking intently at the crumbling walls 
above me, I wondered at the ingenuity and 
patience it must have taken to build ibis 
old, old burg. It seemed to me as though 
it really grew out of this craggy mountain 
top. Nature has kindly filled out the weak 
spots of this illusion : for she has cov- 
ered over with dense and clinging vines the 
place where hers and man's handiwork 

This is sucli a shady spot ; and j nst think, 
too, how much of romance and legend 
there is hidden away in the nooks and 
crevices of this rocky plateau ! Let me 
see. Here it was that Siegfried slew that 
fearful dragon which inhabited yonder 
gaping cave in the mountain side. It was 
an awful battle, the old legend says, and 
then, after Wagner's hero had slain the 
monster, he bathed himself in its blood 
and so became invulnerable. And all these 
grapevines which clothe the rocks with 
green, sprang forth from the barren soil, 
for the blood which trickled down the 
rifted ground gave life to the seed and 
nourished the vine. They grew, and they 
are here to-day to remind us of this tale. 

In the autumn months, when the wine- 
presses are at work, the grapes' blood 
pours forth in purple streams as did the 
dragon's blood of old; and in the summer 



this " Drachenblut " refreshes many a trav- 
eler wearied by the climb, for it is claimed 
to have rejuvenanng qualities. 

Across the Rhine the fallen arch, " Ro- 
landsbogen," looks Lmely and drear, but 
were I there, I could have a view of " Dra- 
chenfels " unrivaled in its beauty. As 
cheery and sunny, and full of color as this 
wonderful scene is to-day, it must have 
been wlien Byron saw it, and told how 

"The castled crag of Di-achenfels 
Frowns o'er the wide ami winding Bhine, 
Whose breast of waters broadly swells 
Between the banks which bear the vine; 
And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, 
And fields which promise corn and wine, 
And scattered cities crowning these 
Whose far white walls along them shine, 
Have strew'd a scene * •■■ "*" " 

which one could see for ever and anon. 
Nor was Lord Byron wrong to close ihe 
stanza as he did, for here, if anywhere, 
come true the words : 

"Getheilte Freude ist doppelte Freude." 

How grating it is on one's senses to be 
roughly awakened out of poetic yesterday 
and to find oneself in prosaic to day. It 
is too bad that the roadways down from 
the " Drachenfels " to Konigswinter are so 
lined with every kind of " iakir," who press 
forward to wheedle the pennies (and more) 
from the traveler with their nonsensical 
trash. It partly spoiled the whole efi'ect 
for me. 

I was glad when I had again reached 
neutral ground without having been 
"taken in," and still congratulating myself 
upon having so successfully run the gaunt- 
let, I paid my guide. Later on, I discov- 
ered to my disgust that he had cleverly and 
politely (for they are always polite) cheated 
me out of a mark! Young in years, he 
evidently was old at his trade, knowing me 
at once as an "Auslander," which to his 
class is usually synonymous with "an easy 
victim." Alvin Schmidt, '93. 


1 Venice may be said to be pre-emi- 
\J nently the City of Romance, the City 
of the Imagination. 

To one who is not a sceptic, St. Marks 
Square is ti led to-day with the most 
charming characters ever created by the 
brain of a romantic writer. The " majes- 
tic Doges," the " clever adventurers/' the 
all-seeing members of the Grand Council, 
though seen only by the imaginative, still 
throng all the streets and canals of Venice. 

As one glides at night in a shadowy 
gondola between the banks of the Grand 
Canal there is a ball at every alternate 
house, and beautilul princesses are weav- 
ing romances by the thousand with brave 
young noblemen. 

Everything in Venice is beautiful and 
almost everything is in partial decay. 
This makes it a very depressing place, 
for it seems a pity that so much loveli- 
ness should pass away. There, perhaps, 
one becomes more homesick than any 
where else, for its beautiful architecture 
dropping into ruin oq every hand bur- 
dens one and makes one long for clean, 
strong, well-kept America. 

Along the edges of most of the smaller 
canals, there is a sort of sidewalk, about 
five feet wide. On this one may walk, and, 
doing so, will see what to me is the best of 
Venice — the common people. Every man, 
woman, or child that one sees, clad as they 
are in bright-colored rags, seems to have 
just stepped out of a romance or a picture. 
Every little group and scene suggests the 
past history of Venice and makes one 
think that though its glory has passed 
away, the common people, at least, are un- 

I saw in a corner of a little street a 
house with Gothic windows and a balcony. 
There was but little left of its former 


splendor. The color of tlie house was 
toned down to a rich maroon ; the stones, 
once white, that formed the arch of the 
window, were soft gray, and the iron fret- 
work of the balcony's railing was, with 
many rains, rusted to almost golden. 
Kneeling, her elbows resting on the top of 
the railing, a woman looked down upon 
the street. The rich ye low tints of her 
skin, the dark chestnut of her hair, the 
soft black and white of her dress, every- 
thing about her was in harmony with the 
setting and she had the same beautiful, 
sensu'ius face that Titian saw and painted 
in Venice years before the house or the 
balcony from which she looked was built. 
There is another Venetian scene which I 
shall always remember — it is the view from 
the north end of the Piazzella, looking 
toward the harbor. This seems to be a 
kind of expression in architecture of the 
idea of Venice. On the right, is the Doge's 
palace, from which the Grand Council 
sent out the orders that governed the great 
republic. On the left, is the old library, 
Grecian in style, and done in white mar- 
ble. Beyond, is the enchanted harbor, 
guarded by the Lion of St. Mark, which 
shows to all the world what Venice is. 
But no, the view lacks one thing to make 
it fully express the Venice of the imag- 
ination — there are no ships in the harbor 

The manner of the Venetians, their every 
accent and gesture is indescribably pleas- 
ing. The motion of the gondoliers as they 
sway back and forth propelling their fairy 
boats, is rhythm itself, and the voices of the 
peddlers, who sell flowers and little cakes, 
are as sweet as the music which at night 
floats across the water from the gondola 
of some serenaders. 

After all, what is my impression of Ven- 
ice, what do I think of Avhen I hear her 
name? A few strains of soft music, gentle 
people, stars shining at night over fairy 
palaces, grace and beauty, and over all an 
irrepressible sense of loneliness. 

Victor Judah Brandon. 


ON a bright April morning, a few days 
after Easter, we stepped into a com- 
partment of the Bavarian limited, in 
the Munich station, and were borne whiz- 
zing northward over the Danube, past old, 
mediaeval, walled towns; past clustering 
villages ; past straw-thatched farm-houses ; 
past strapping, bare-footed women toiling 
in the flelds, till, at last, our engine rum- 
bled, screeching and snorting, into the 
JBahnhof o{ the most picturesque town in 
Germany — Nuremberg. 

The antiquity of the city is not notice- 
able in the station, which is decidedly 
modern; nor in the suburbs; nor, in fact, 
in the city in its entirety. For, passing over 
the moat and through the walls by the mas- 
sive Frauen-Thor, we enter the St. Lorenz 
side of the city, a side peculiar, indeed, to 
one fresh from America, but little different 
from the majority of German cities. In 
fact, the only things of interest on this 
side are the St. Lorenz Kirche, with tine 
interior decorations and a magnificent 
rose window; the Germanisches Museum, 
and the house of Peter Visher, Nurem- 
berg's great bronze worker. Therefore, 
we cross the Pegnitz and enter the St. 
Sebald side. A step into fairyland ! We 
find ourselves in the Nuremberg of our 
dreams, among the narrow, crooked streets, 
shadowed by the quaint, old, overhanging 
houses, with their steep, tiled roofs, their 
many peculiarly shaped dormer eyelets. 



their arched portals and muUioned Aviii- 
dows, whence, doubtless, many a time the 
burghers and their wives saw Diirer pass, 
little dreaming of the eternal fame his 
name would bring upon their city. We 
wend our way over the cobble stones. 
The inhabitants gaze stolidly from their 
doorways at these Amerikaners, who wear 
their trousers turned up at their knees ! 
We pass by the house of the poet Hans 
Sachs, whom Wagner has raised to a 
•greater immortality than he achieved by 
his own merits; by the dwelling of that 
patriotic John Palm " who fell a victim to 
the tyranny of ISTapoleou in 1806," as the 
tablet tells the curious passer by. The 
familiar figure of the Gransemaunchen next 
attracts our attention. This is an ex- 
(|uisite little fountain ligure, in bronze, of 
a peasant with a goose under each arm. 
Another beautiful fountain is the Schone 
Brunnen, a Gothic pyramid, adorned with 
numerous figures and carvings. lu the iron 
railing of the fountain is a small movable 
iron ring, ingeniously wrought, which the 
traveling apprentices never fail to kiss, as a 
sign of luck. Farther on is the church of 
St. Sebaldus, erected about the time of the 
Crusades. It contains fine work by Diirer, 
Adam Kraft, Veit Stoss, and others of 
Nuremberg's greatest children. Climbing 
steeply now, we proceed panting up the 
Berg Strasse, by the statue of Albrecht 
Diirer, by his house (now a museum), till 
we at last reach the massive Burg, or 

This rugged pile of masonry, built on a 
rock, seems, with its three towers, to be 
keeping watch over all the country round. 
It is said to have been founded by one 
of the early Franconian emperors, and 
suffered severe injury in the Thirty Years' 
War. A venerable lime tree in the court- 
yard, reported to be 900 years old, marks 
the spot where justice was anciently ad- 
ministered. In another part of the castle 

is shown the well, remarkable for its depth, 
from the bottom of which two under- 
ground passages branch oft", one to the 
town-hall, the other to St. John's Church- 
yard, outside the city walls, thus affording 
a means of escape in case of siege. In one 
of the walls are shown two hoof-shaped 
impressions, which are said to have been 
left by the horse of a captive robber- 
knight, who escaped by leaping over the 
moat. The central tower, the most an- 
tique part of the whole burg, contains a 
collection of instruments of torture, many 
of which have seen service within this 
very tower. We were shown into a small, 
low room. On every hand were arrayed 
the various machines — the cradle, the rack, 
the thumbscrew, the boot, etc., grewsome 
names in themselves, all coated with rust. 
We could easily picture to ourselves how 
that rust got there. The imagination 
works too easily for one's comfort, some- 
times. Following the guide, we ascended 
a dark, winding stairway to the torture 
chamber above. In the center of this 
gloomy apartment was a grim figure, the 
Iron A^irgin. As the attendant unfolded 
the tale of this terrible maiden, exclama- 
tions of horror burst from the mem- 
bers of the party, and their faces could 
could be seen to blanch, even in that dusk. 
The hapless victim was crushed, cowering, 
into that iron form. The heavy doors 
were slowdy clostd, and he shrieked his 
last death-cry as those murderous iron 
spikes, slowly, torturingly, forced their 
way into him. Beneath the Virgin is a 
trap-door, through which the mangled 
body was dropped to the river far below. 

St. John's Cemetery, outside the gates of 
the city, contains the remains of those 
great men of the Reformation Period who 
helped to make l^uremberg famous — Peter 
Visher, the great bronze caster, and his 
five sons ; Adam Kraft, the sculptor ; Veit 
Stoss, a wonderful wood carver, and Al- 


brecht Diirer, the founder of German INGRATITUDE. 

painting and engraving. Diirer's monu- 
ment, indistinguishable from those of his 

humble fellow citizens, bears this inSCrip- Along the dusty road, fair Uaphne strayed, 

tion : 

Me. aI. Du. (Jaic'/aUl Alberti Diin'ii 
Mortule Fail Sub Hoc Conditur Taniulo. 
Emigravit VIII Mas Aprilus, MBXXVJI 
A. D. 

Our own Longfellow said : 

Emigravit is the inscription on the tombstone where 

he lies. 
Dead he is not, but departed — for the artist never 


RoBEKT Ransdall, '99. 

" Better have failed in the high aim, as I, 
Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed." 



I AST summer near ray window, a hum- 
I ming bird built her tiny nest, and here 
^ she reared her family. One day a 
lieavy storm was coming up, and just as 
the first drops began to fall the mother 
bird came fluttering home. Taking a large 
leaf from a tree near by she drew it over 
the nest in a way which completely cov- 
ered it. After doing this, she went back 
to the work she was doing when the storm 
had disturbed her. I noticed that the leaf 
did not blow away, and that puzzled me ; 
so I finally reached and examined it. I 
found it hooked to a tiny stick which was 
just inside tlie nest, apparently built in 
for that purpose. The storm lasted for 
only a few minutes. After it was over, 
the mother bird came home, and, unhook- 
ing the leaf, found her babies perfectly 
dry. Beulah E. McElwee, '01. 

<Jn toward the stile which was the trysting-place. 
Nowhere could their be found a prettier maid, 

Nor one more coyly sweet 

Than she who strolled to meet 
Gay Strephon, with the sunset light, 

C'aught in her hair and playing on her face, 
So young, so bright. 

The elders showered tlieir snow as Daphne passed; 

The cricket in the clover ceased his chant; 
Although her feet dragged slow, hei- heart beat fast. 

Her eyes east shyly down, 

Upon her l)row a frown, 
For Strephon was not at the stile. 

Must she await this loitering gallant 
A weary while? 

Then, in the road, she spied a glinting pin, 

And quickly bent to rai.^e it from the dust; 
The frown was chased away; a smile crept in : 

' ' To pick a new pin up 

Will surely bring good luck." 
She jdaced it in her gown with care. 

The homely adage truthful prcjved and just; 
Strephon was there. 

In his blue coat a brier rose he wore, 

Plucked from a bush that grew beside the way ; 
And from the stem the thorns he deftly tore, 

Then to her gave the token. 

With laughing words, low spoken. 
Making apt use of the luck-bringing pin. 

He fixed the flower upon her kerchief gay 
Witii bashful grill. 

Tile pin, among the ruffles on her breast, 

Shone proud and brave to think what it had done; 
The petals of the rose its head caressed ; 
The flattered pin well knew 
These honors were its due. 
A short-lived glory — woe betide — 

The faded rose, she pressed; the pin — vain one ! — 
She cast aside. 

Mylo .Jo C'lo.s.see, '99. 




In this song of Hiawatha, 

In this tale of the creation, 

There are pictured, there are written, 

All the tales of the Ojibways, 

All the myths of the Dakotahs, 

Of the coming of the Prophet, 

Of the Prophet Hiawatha, 

Who was sent to make men prosper 

And to teach them modes of friendship. 

He it was who came unto them, 

As a simple child 'mongst children. 

He it was who grew among them 

And became their chief and leader; 

Taught them arts of peace and friendship, 

Taught them how to grow and prosper. 

To become a stronger nation. 

When he wrestled with Mondamin, 

Fought and struggled with Mondamin, 

He but founded and discovered 

That great blessing, agriculture. 

In his visit to his father. 

In his visit and his conflict 

With the west wind, Mudjekeewis, 

There is told us, there is pictured 

All the fury of the snow-slide 

Of the devastating avalanche. 

In the clearing of the river 

By the very strong man, Kwasind, 

Is another way of telling 

Of the birth of navigation. 

When the Prophet, Hiawatha, 

Builded the canoe of birch-bark, 

Oi the cedar and the tir tree. 

He did teacli the art of building, 

Noble art of the ship-builder. 

Whem he sailed forth on the bosom 

Of the shining Big-Sea- Water, 

Forth upon the Gitchee-Gumee 

With his fishing line of cedar, 

To capture the great sturgeon, Nahma, 

Hiawatha showed his people 

That great profit lay in commerce. 

In the battle with Pearl-Feather 

Megissogwon, the magicRan, 

Hiawatha did but free them 

From the pestilential vapors 

And the plague and famine scourges. 

In his wooing and his marriage 

With the pretty Laughing- Water, 

Daughter of the Arrow-Maker, 

He did show the tribes and nations 

The great strength that lay in union. 

When he taught them picture-writing. 

How to write with brush and color 

< )n the white bark of the birch tree 

So that man could understand it, 

Men could read and comprehend it, 

Hiawatha made and founded 

The great science of recording. 

So that naught would be forgotten 

So that all would be remembered. 

In the chase of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

He, the handsome Yenadizze, 

Hiawatha showed his people 

That the right will always conquer 

And the evil be the conquered. 

All these things and many others 

Hiawatha taught his people. 

Taught them how to grow and prosper 

And become a stronger nation ; 

Taught them these things to prepare them 

For the coming of the White Man. 

When from eastward came lagoo, 

He, the great and mighty boaster, 

With his stories of adventure. 

Of the great canoe with pinions 

And the warriors with white faces. 

The great Prophet, Hiawatha, 

Knew his work on earth was finished 

And returned to the Great Spirit. 

So when from across the water. 

From across the Gitchee-Gumee, 

Came the Black-Kobe Chief, the Pale-face, 

All of Hiawatha's people 

Were in readiness and waiting 

To receive him and his comrades. 

— Paul Edwards, '01. 



I AST ii'ght I dreamed I was in the far- 
I away town of Weissnichtwo, and in 
^ the very presence of the august Teu- 
felsdrockh. It was a strange apartment, 
full of books and tattered papers, and mis- 
cellaneous shreds of all conceivable sub- 
stances, "united in a common element of 
dust," and there, the center of all this 
confusion, sat the professor imperturbably 
smoking his pipe by the flckering light of 
a tallow candle. I waited patiently for mid- 
night to come, as that, I have been told, 
was his ''talking season." 



Tlie hour arrives and lie begins, first 
removing li'S pipe. " Yes," he says (as if 
continuing the thread of conversation, or 
rather monologue — for, of course, he was 
unaware of my presence), "the world holds 
that opinion of me. They regard me as 
eccentric — a prophet crying in the wilder- 
ness. Curious, indeed, how I should ever 
have come before the eyes of the world ! 
Here I live in my watch-tower, high up 
above the busy hum of life, with the stars 
and planets for my companions — a solitary 
life — yet drawn into the midst of the fray. 
The conviction was borne in upon me that 
man must be aroused to see the mysteries 
of life. He was getting too material and 
needed to be shown that the body is but 
the manifestation of spirit, and that ' we 
are such stuff as dreams are made of.' So, 
to awaken the slumbering mass of people, 
I composed my philosophy of clothes — not 
that I was at all satisfied with the result, 
but it fulfilled its mission if it set men to 
examining themselves. That it will never 
be popular, I am sure. 

" How the world laughed when the phi- 
losophy made its appearance ; but that is 
their privilege, and I would seek to dis- 
suade no one from healthy, wholesome 
laughter. But to return, the world laughed, 
I'm afraid, in derision. They said the style 
was obscure, distorted and exclamatory. 
They may have used such language as 
this : 

" ' Of his sentences, perhaps not more 
than nine-tenths stand straight on their 
legs ; the remainder are in quite angular 
attitudes, buttressed up by props (of paren- 
theses and dashes), and ever with this or 
that tag-rag hanging from them; a few 
even sprawl out helplesslj' on all sides, 
quite broken-backed and dismembered.' 
But when these criiics read the Edinburgh 
address (an article, forsooth, I have not 
yet acknowledged), they will find that 
it is written in straightforward English, 

whose clearness they themselves can not 
hope to improve. 

" Then they say, in a sort of derogatory 
way, that there is always a double mean- 
ing to everything. Well and good, it was 
so intended. I wonder if they suppose for 
an instant that a man talks in enigmas 
and doesn't know it. Ah, no, the deep, 
hidden meaning is often the most vital to 
him. What do I say in the book? 'To 
the eye of vulgar logic, what is man ? An 
omnivorous biped. . . . To the eye of pure 
reason, what is he? A soul, a spirit, and 
a divine apparition. Round his mysterious 
me, there lies ... a garment of flesh (or of 
senses) contextared in the loom of heaven." 

"A great and consoling thought to me is 
that no one has ever succeeded in imitat- 
ing my style, for the simple reason, I sup- 
pose, that they do not feel as deeply. But, 
at any rate, that is peculiarly my own, and 
those who have attempted to copy it have 
only made themselves ridiculous thereby. 

" One thing the critics must consider — 
I am terribly in earnest. I believe in a 
living God ; but, alas, man is far from act- 
ing as if made in His image. I will de- 
nounce, with my last breath, sham and 
hypocrisy of every sort. I, who have 
Norse blood in my veins, have, no less, the 
fiery and determined spirit which animated 
those old sea-wolves. This book was writ- 
ten in my life-blood, and " 

Here I w^as awakened from my dream by 
violent raps on my bed- room door, and I 
awoke to find it was in the early dawn, . 
Eunice Curtis, '98. 

"Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we 
Are a substantial world, both pure and good. 
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, 
Our pastime and our happiness will grow." 


'"'Tis not what man does which exalts him, but what 
man would do." 





THE art of the poet is not limited to 
the expression of beautiful thoughts, 
but, by the use of descriptive words 
and phrases, he makes use of the power 
of the painter, making vivid thought-pic- 
tures of sunsets, of skies sot in tlieir mild- 
ness, of autumn woods glorious in their 
brilliancy, and of storm-clouds dark and 
foreboding. Such are the pictures which 
shape themselves in, our vision when we 
read Brj'ant's poems. 

We eee outline pictures. A waterfowl 
is darkly seen against the colored sky as it 
pursues its iiight. The branching pines of 
the forest rise high and dark. 

Not less vivid are his perspective pic- 
tures. When we see a beautiful, near 
landscape, we also see in the distance dim, 
blue hills, far-away trees, or indistinct 
water glimmering in the sunlight. A 
more beautiful distant landscape was never 
painted tlian that which Bryant describes 
in this stanza : 

''All dim in haze the mountains lay, 
With dimmer vales between; 
And rivers glimmered on their way 
By forests faintly seen." 

His pictures also embod}' color. The 
"rosy depths" of the "crimson sky" 
make the distant heavens glow. By these 
expressions, we see a brilliant crimson sky, 
soft in its boundless limits. In his descrip- 
tions of flowery June, he speaks of the 
" green mountains around," the blue sky, 
the thick young herbs and flowers stand- 
ing by in their beauty on the green earth. 
Here is material for the painter to make a 
charming picture on his canvas. 

What a contrast to this soft landscape 
is the description of the storm, when the 
sky is dark and heavy, growing blacker 
every moment, the sun quenched in a lurid 
liaze and sending forth a glare. Even if we 

had never seen the approach of a hurri- 
cane, we could see one plainly in this little 

The expression " russet fields," " crim- 
son leaf," "sunny-colored foliage," "bright 
forest depths" and "gay company of trees" 
suggest an autumnal picture, the landscape 
seeming afire with bright colors; while 
"sparkling frost work," " trees clothed in 
ice," and "massive trunks cased in pure 
crystal" suggest a wintry landscape, the 
aspect cold and white with the glistening 

Bryant describes a country landscape. 
His native hills, broad and green, garnished 
with waving grass and grain, seem to lie 
in the summer sky. Soft clouds roll along, 
while the maize leaf and maple bough have 
a deep glossy green. 

Beautiful and artistic pictures we see, 
of all times of the year ; soft green land- 
scapes of early spring, the parched condi- 
tion of nature in summer, the brilliant 
hues of autumn, the bleak, icy contrast of 
winter. Bryant describes pictures in all 
places, made more beautiful to us by the 
magic pen of the poet, for it is he who in- 
terprets the teachings of nature and makes 
us feel the charm of hor presence. 

Marijaret Seegmiller, '01. 


As to a traveler who for long has been 

Across the unmeasured spaces of the sea, 

Amid the vines of France, or where the free 

Cold winds blow wild o'er highland heath and whin; 

As when he comes at last to home and kin 

All things are dear, the cattle on the lea, 

The well known house beside the apple tree, 

His mother's loving smile — all objects win 

His travel-sated heart — so unto us again, 

Who far have been from home and friend, the sight 

Of this dear High School charms us, as a light 

The wave-tossed sailor sees when on the main 

The winds have whirled him in the depth and height 

Of surging billows mid the rushing rain. 




< )iie oiorning ere the lingering snows had gone, 
A bugle call rang o'er the wakening earth, 
A clear, sweet sound as of the myriad notes 
Of early warblers gathered into one. 

For, tripping o'er the hills with lightsome tread, 
A beautifuland princely youth appeared; 
His heralds were the robins, proud and brave. 
And countless songsters iluttered round liis head. 

As in a dream, I watched, and saw him keep 
His onward way until he reached a glen 
Where, resting on a velvet couch of moss, 
The spirit of the flowers lay in sleep. 

I saw him stoop as stooped that prince of old. 
And lift her snow-white hand unto his lips; 
She breathed a sigh, she woke to woo \vnth smiles 
The slumbering flowers and bid the leaves unfold. 

Her beauty held the wondering eye entranced; 

Her emerald robe gleamed bright with dainty flowers; 

And where the petals from lier garlands fell. 

The butterflies in clouds of lightness danced. 

A radiance, grown each moment yet more strong, 
Dispersed the sombre darkness of the wood ; 
The waters, bursting through their frost-riv'n chains. 
Flowed gurgling on with merry laugh and song. 

From vine and tree were pennants fluttering; 
The flowers flung their perfumes to the breeze 
And, clad in silken gowns, their curtsies bent, 
To welcome to the earth the lovely Spring. 

— Mary Fitch Sewall, .June, '97. 


IT was a perfect day. The air was pleas- 
ant, and a refresliing breeze stirred the 
leaves already aglow with l^atnre's 
autumnal tints. The bright canopy over- 
head was colored a wonderful blue, and a 
solitary pink and white cloud gave addi- 
tional beauty to the landscape. 

The fields had donned their best green 
robes, ornamented with huge clusters of 
goldenrod here and there ; and even the 
birds exerted all their etfbrts for a farewell 
chorus. Through the grassy meadow me- 

andered a tiny stream, which in the long 
summer days had rippled in gleeful merri- 
ment, and little flower-heads which adorned 
its mossy banks nodded cheerfully as it 
went singing on its way. 

The gayly dressed trees seemed alive to 
the fact that they would soon be stripped 
of their beautiful foliage of which they 
had been so proud, and gave a gentle sigh 
as the cooling zephyrs played among the 
branches. In these particular surround- 
ings, there were many pleasant groves, 
shady lanes, artistic spots, interesting 
nooks and leafy bowers, liued with dra- 
peries of the most gorgeous hues, whose 
natural entrances were curtained with the 
daintiest vine tapestries, drawn back by 
their delicate tendrils. Between some ot 
the forest giants were mossy stumps, afibrd- 
mg pleasant seats (or the artist. 

All day the sun had shone upon the great 
earth, and as evening advanced the remain 
ing beams cast a mellow light over the 
picturesque landscape, transiiguring the 
trees into Olympian grandeur. 

Old Sol at last sank in silent splendor 
behind the western h:lls. 

Louise K. Pugh, '01. 


ONE day in May, Longfellow was watcli- 
ing a potter plying his trade under a 
hawthorn tree. The morning was 
bright and warm, and as the golden threads 
of sunshine played about the figure of the 
potter, he appeared to be a part of a beau- 
tiful tapestry. As he turned his wheel he 
sang of how the world would never stop; 
that the eggs in tlie robin's nest would 
soon be robins, and that the child would 
soon become a man. 

As the potter continued his song, Long- 
fellow fell into a reverie and was borne on 
the wings of fancy to every place where 

• 1 




the art of pottery was known. First lie 
saw Holland, with its djkes and ships, its 
green pastures and gardens, and its wind- 
mills flapping their wing-like sails like so 
many seagulls. Generally describing it he 

"It is a land that seems to be 
A mingling of the land and sea." 

He comes to Delft, the market-place, crown 
and center of the potter's trade. The 
houses are ornamented wiih plates and 
flagons, pewter tankards, made interesting 
with musk and musketeer, and pilgrim 
flasks enihlazoned with fleur de-lis and 
pictures of storm-tossed pilgrim ships. 
The chimneys, parlor walls, stairways, cor- 
ridors and the horders of the garden walks 
are all beautifully tiled. 

Afl he leaves Delft and goes southwest- 
ward to France, Longfellow recalls to mind 
Pali>sy, the man who for sixteen years 
tried to make an enamel which he had 
seen on some Japanese ware. When his 
fuel gave out, he broke up his furniture 
that he might keep his furnace burning. 
His neighbors all thought that he was 
mad, but still he continued his labors, and 
at last he succeeded in discovering the art 
of making the enamel and became wealthy. 

Still guided by the song, the poet seem- 
ingly goes to S[iain and then to Italy, with 
its churches, cloisters and castles. 

"And vase and scutcheon, cup and plate, 
In perfect finish emulate 
Faenza, Florence, Pescara." 

The poet sees Kaphael, who seems to 
him angelic and divine in arts of design 
and color. There is one cup which attracts 
his attention ; in the bowl, upon a deep 
blue ground, colors of all tints mingle har- 
moniously in a woman's portrait with the 
name, " Cana, the Beautiful." It was 
probably a love token given to this woman 
many years ago. 

But Longfellow says that better than all 
the ornaments on tomb or wall in Italy are 
the Greek vases, urns and bas-reliefs. 

" Figures that almost move and speak, 
And buried amid mould and weeds, 
Still in their attitudes attest 
The presence of the graceful Greek." 

Achilles, Alcides, and lovely Helen of 
Troy seem to be alive and beautitul yet. 

Now, the winds that blow south carry 
the poet to Egypt. In Cairo may be seen 
fabulous earthen jars as large as those in 
which brave Morgiana found the forty 
thieves. But t-till stranger than these jars 
are the Egyptian gods and lamps that date 
back to tlie time of Cleopatra. 

Passing eastward, the poet passes over 
India, China and Japan. In Nankin he 
sees the Tower of Porcelain and the glow 
of the thousand furnaces. In Japan he 
sees beautiful jars covered with pictures of 
the heron, stork and crane. 

"The counterfeit and counterpart 
Of nature reproduced in art." 

As Longfellow thus mused, the church 
bell suddenly proclaimed the hour of noon. 
The potter stopped his wheel, threw his 
apron on the grass, and ended his song : 

"Stop, stop, my wheel ! Too soon, too soon. 
The noon will be the afternoon, 
Too soon to-day be yesterday. 
Behind us in our path we cast 
The broken potsherds of the past, 
And all are ground to dust at last. 
And trodden into clay." 

Theodore Schmidt, '01. 

"Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ; 
Everything is happy now, 

Everything is upward striving; 
'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true 
As for grass to be green, or skies to be blue, 
'Tis the natural way of living." 






IJST literature we come acro?s many differ- 
ent types of character, good, bad and 
inditierent; some that bring smiles to 
our faces whenever we think of them ; some 
that we fe 1 a loathing for, wliile others are 
so noble that tfiey make us aspire higher. 

There are few characters in American 
literature that are so widely known and 
admired as that of Ichabod Crane, in Ir- 
ving's "Legend of Sleepy Hollow." In 
this character, the author has set before us 
a human being whose hiyhest aim is to be 
well fed and to do nothing. He has shown 
us a school teacher who never spoiled his 
pupils by sparing the rod, and who ruled 
them only by fear. He has pictured to us 
a tall, awkward fellow, mostly legs and 
arms, with a tendency to coming unjointed ; 
who could make himst-lf very agreeable to 
his host only when he was sure he could 
gain a good raeal by it. 

In Whittier's beautiful poem, " Snow 
Bound," we are shown quite a different 
type for a schoolmaster. Here we see a 
tall, athletic man, who won his pupils' re- 
gard and was remembered by them as a 
favorite in all their sports. He could adapt 
himself to any life, from that of school 
teacher to peddler, and was welcomed into 
every home. He tried to please every one, 
and was such a good story-teller that the 
classic legends that he told seemed to be- 
come the scenes of home. 

Here are two characters alike in one 
thing, while so widely different in every 
other respect. In the former, the author 
has set before us only that which is gro- 
tesque, while in the latter we see a man 
who is noble in every respect and whose 
strength of character promised help to his 
country in one of the greatest questions 
ever produced. Lucetta T. Ohr, '01. 


lEMBROKE" is a little village built 
"Oq the Heights" "In the Berk- 
shire Hil s." Here, as in few other 
places in " The Wide, Wide World," " Time 
and Tide " have waited for man, for "Look- 
ing Backward" " J^inety-three " years one 
sees that the place is the same to-day as it 
was " In Old New England," a little world 
in itself, a great " Monastery," and we, one 
and all, are "The Children of the Abbey," 
interested in every one and authorized to 
hope that every one is interested in us. 

There is "A Strange Story" that "Our 
Fathers have Told Us," of how once "A 
Wise Woman," "Jane Field," bidden by 
"A Message from the Sea," left the village 
without even answering her neighbors' oft 
repeated question of " Quo Vadis," and at 
this strange deed, " The Earth Trembled," 
so "The Attic Phdosopher" declares. 

If there is one thing of which " Pem- 
broke" is proud, it is her people, for she 
prides herself on not being a village of 
"All Sorts and Conditions of Men." The 
"Three People" of the village are "The 
Little Minister," "Dr. Claudius," and 
"Silas Marner." 

" The Little Minister " is believed to have 
once had "A Humble Romance," but 
"When a Man's Single" he is always hon- 
ored with "A Bachelor's Romance." How- 
ever, to day, "The Lost Love" of "Days 
Gone By" is forgotten and he lives as 
"Any Ordinary Man" in "The House of 
the Seven Gables" with " Miss Jerry," his 
sister and housekeeper. Yes, just the 
" Two of Them " live in that great " Bleak 
House." "Miss Jerry" was always an 
"Old Fashioned Girl," "Not Like Other 
Girls," and now as "A Bachelor Maid" 
" She" looks like " A New England Nun," 
for "Night and Morning," "She" dresses 
"In Black and White." 

"Next Door" to the minister's, in 



"The Old Homestead" of "The New- 
comer," dwells "Our Village" doctor. 
" Marse Chau," as " Uncle Remus " calls 
the doctor, is an " Old Virginia Gentle- 
man " of " The Old South." Nor does he 
ever tire of talking of "'Our Old Home' 
'In Ole Virginia' and 'The Virginians' 
I knew ' Befo' He War.' " " The Surgeon's 
Daughter," " Marcella," is "The Pride of 
the Village," and, indeed, in her white frock 
"She" m'ght pass for the "Princess Aline." 

Poor "Silas Marner," how bravely he 
has fought " The Battle of Life '' His 
father was a "Gentleman of France," 
"Count Robert of Paris," who came over 
here with "Great Expectations" of be- 
coming "An American Politician," but he 
only remained "Through One Adminis- 
tration." Silas, however, remained, and 
during all these years he has lived "Alone" 
over the "Old Curiosity Shop," patiently 
enduring, like "The Christian" gentleman 
that he is, the " Retribution " due his 
father, until "At Last" he has become the 
acknowledged sage of the village. 

These three " Representative Men " are 
to us the "Living Leaders of the World." 
Frances T. Adams, June, '98. 


'Tis not because her face is fair 

As that of some Madonna mid the gloom 

Of a dim cloistered cliurch Italian, where 
She smiles above the lights and lily bloom. 

Nor yet that her clear voice is sweeter far, 

With its rare human cadences, than 
Of white-winged angels who, in some lone star, 

These has she, but her sweetness is a thing- 
More rare — as is the shimmering orb of pearl 
That can not many-colored sparkles fling. 
But charms us with a radiance soft as spring — 
So is that laughing witch, the High School girl. 


ONE'S first impression on reaching this 
famous Pi'grim settlement is, we must 
confess, rather disappointing, for this, 
the oldest town in New England, seems 
newly built, being now the peaceful, indus- 
trious home of busy mill workers, and in 
summer a favorite resort for tourists. 

The ocean is here, and the little harbor, 
and the hills and original streets; but it is 
only on Burial Hill and in Pilgrim Hall 
that we find anything to remind us of the 
olden times. As we linger among the 
carefully cherished relics to be found in 
Pilgrim Hall and study the quaint costumes 
of its pictured forms, we become more im- 
bued with the spirit of the place, but the 
reverential mood suddenly forsakes us as 
we face the shop windows filled with all 
sorts of modern trinkets and furni^hings. 

Revered Pi grim names salute our ears, 
but their owners, in modern attire, ride in 
electric cars. We learn from the inhabit- 
ants that up to a period within the mem- 
ory of the oldest inhabitant a primitive 
simplicity prevailed among the possessors 
of the land. The coming of a host of 
modern Pilgrims has changed all of this, 
and although it still possesses some unique 
attractions and is an ideal summering 
place, its glorj' has departed. 

Plymouth Rock is covered by an impos- 
ing granite canopy, and is railed in for 
protection, for it would long since have 
been carried away in fragments if not 
guarded. Visiting Burial Hill, we are 
shown the graves of several of the May- 
flower passengers, marked by dark slate 
gravestones, which were brought over frcmi 
England. Standing here, where so much 
of the life of our Pilgrim fathers is sug- 
gested, we feel as did Dean Stanley, who 
remarked, on leaving Burial Hill : " Never 
let tool, or art, or leveling, or adorning 
meddle with this sacred spot." 



On an adjoiuin^ and somewhat higher 
hill, stands the great monument to the Pil- 
grims, which is a massive granite shaft 
surmounted by a colossal figure of Faith. 
From this hill a beautiful view of the harbor 
is obtained, and we gaze upon the scene 
with admiration, as our thoughts go back 
to that day in 1620 when a solitary vessel 
sailed into the b 'y, bringing to its shores 
the founders of J^ew England. 

"They little tliought how pare a light 

With years would gather 'round that day; 

How love would keep their memories bright, 
How wide a realm their sons would sway." 

Chas. Adams, June, "98. 


Waking from the under- world 
Peep the tiny pennons curl'd ; 
Timidly the green unfurls, 
Showing tints as pure as pearls. 
Sunshine greets with fairy smiles, 
Gentle winds use all their wiles; 
So the stranger opes her eyes — 
Filled is she with great surprise. 

At her feet, a carpet green ; 
High above, a sky serene ; 
Twittering birds with welcome gay 
Kiss the tender little fay. 
Happy she and free from foe, 
Past are dreams of cold and snow ; 
Life 's a merry, merry thing — 
Now 't is modest, blushing Spring. 

Andrea Ferguson. 


IN the Corcoran Gallery at Washington 
hangs a picture whose chief merit is 
its wonderful perspective, Detaille's 
" Passing Regiment." Rank after I'ank of 
infantry and building after building 
extend back as far as the eye can reach, 
and here and there, on the outskirts, is an 
omnibus, an interested onlooker, or an en- 
thusiastic urchin. But though the canvas 

is a crowded one, every figure is so placed 
as to give perfect perspective to the whole. 

In the art galle y of literature hangs a 
picture of equally crowded canvas and 
equally wonderfnl perspective. Dickens" 
" Hard Times." 

There are many characters in this book, 
but they are all so placed as to direct the 
chief attention to Louisa and Mr. Grad- 
grind, to make definite and distinct, by 
contrast, the faults and virtues of these 
central figures. Sissy Jupe, with her de- 
lightful and insuppressible imagination 
forms a fine background for Mr. Gradgrind 
and his, " Facts, sir, nothing but facts." 
Against the dark sky of Tom's ungrate- 
ful and selfish life, Louisa's um^elfish 
and sacrificing love for him shines brightly. 
Rachel's character would not seem so beau- 
tiful were it not for the utter degradation 
ot Stephen's wife, nor Mr. Bouuderby so 
shallow and boastful were it not for the 
force of Stephen Blackpool's sterling char- 

In Detaille's masterpiece, the drum- 
major is made prominent by his position 
in relation to the other figures. In " Hard 
Times," Louisa seems more prominent be- 
cause of Sissy, Rachel and Mrs. Sparsit; 
Mr. Gradgrind more distinct because of 
Mr. Bonnderby and Stephen Blackpool. 
In fact, we see each character through its 
relation to the others. As in Detaille's 
picture the tall buildings give vigor to the 
figures before them, so poor, smoky, geo- 
metrical Coketown gives life and vigor to 
all the characters in " Hard Times." It is 
to them as a crimson velvet curtain behind 
a marble statue. 

Perspective is also evident in the ar- 
rangement of events. We see each im- 
portant event by its relation to the series 
of minor incidents which form its back- 
ground. The fact system is not exploded 
at once. S ssy becomes a member of the 
Gradgrind household, Louisa is married. 



Tom is given a place in the bank, Mr. 
Harthonse is introduced, and then, through 
an avenue of events and against a perfect 
background, we see Louisa standing be- 
fore her father on that stormy night and 
know that the fact system is a failure. 

We may even say of this great piece of 
literature as has been said of " The Pass- 
ing Regiment," " The great marvel of this 
painting is its wonderful perspective." 

Lilian Mitchell. 


Nov. 20. Puritan Supper. 

Dee. 20. Mr. Daniels's address on Alexander Hamil- 













Dec. 24. Primary for the Oratorical Contest held in 
High School Hall. 
Trip to Pendleton by the Chemistry Classes. 
February Class Day. 
Mid-Year Commencement. 
High School Hop, given at the Propyheum. 
Mr. Wilbur C. Abbott's talk on Oxford. 
Talk by Dean Salisbury of Chicago Uni- 
Feb. 25 and 26. lolanthe presented at the Grand Opera 
House by pupils of High School and In- 
dustrial Training School. 
25. Oratorical Contest held at Richmond. 
9. Reception given by the June to the February 
Class, at the Brenneke Academy. 
15-25. Arts and Crafts Exhibit held in High 
School Building. 
Field Day. 
June Class Day. 

Meeting of the High School Alumni .Associ- 







tZ^i^ <&.f>-^f>i Jirti' 






SCIENCE IN THE INDIANAPOLIS One of the advantages claimed in the re- 
HIGH SCHOOL. vision of the courf^e of study is stated in 
the announcement for 1885 to he "en- 
abling a wider choice, and permitting the 
OF the early day of science in the Indian- various scientific subjects more time." It 
apolis High School, little that is au- Avas thus recognized, at that time, that 
thentic remains ; and little that is science to be well taught required more 
tradition, is available for historial retro- time in the class-room than other subjects, 
spect, beyond an occasional fragment of for </(w?^.s and not books were the materials 
wrecked apparatus stowed away in the to be handled, 
attic. In 1885, the science offered was as fol- 

But as history is built on a skeleton of lows : 
more or less fratrmentary incidents, so it is 

-, , ^ ■ n \t ^ ■ ^, 1 T f 1 -11 PRESCRIBED SCIENCE. 

possible to inter that in the hands or skill- 
ful teachers, much good grew out of the Physical Geography * year. 

experiences of the boys and girls of that Physics I i year. 

period. For during the twenty years of Physics II i year. 

the history of our school preceding the Chemistry |^ year. 

erection of the present buicling in 1884, 

appear the names of several men, as teach- elective science 

ers, who now stand high in the special 

fields which opened for them, namely: Dr. Botany J year. 

Harvey W. Wiley, Chief Chemist, Depart- Chemistry J year. 

ment of Agriculture, Washington, D. C ; Physiology J year. 

Dr. David S. Jordan, President of Leland Zoology J year. 

Stanford University; Dr. Wm. B. Fletcher, Geology J year. 

of this city, and several others of great per- ^, ^. , . i- t i • -.^r^r, 

1 ., T . ci . The cour.-^e of study published in 1893 

sonal worth, but ot lesser note. ^ , , „ ^^ . , . 

m. 111 X f J i-i adds the following electives : 

Ihe real development of modern meth- ° 

ods in science teaching in this school had Botany— Histological J year. 

its beginning at about the time tlie present ^Physical Geography J year. 

buikling was erected. In the new building, 

a room was set apart for a chemical labora- Mr. George W. Huflford, our present 

tory, which was equipped with some tables principal, has encouraged the development 

and a little apparatus for individual work, of science work as far as is consistent with 

Physics and Biology were assigned a well-rounded and progressive High 

rooms, but nothing was done to equip School course, and our last published 

them tor the individual work of students, course of study presents the following list 

The remodeled course of study adopted of science studies : 

in 1882 made these developments possible. 

Mr. W. W. Grant, then principal, was al- prescribed science. 

ways a firm believer in individual science -r-., • t i 

, 1 • ii 1 i- f • Physics 1 1 year. 

work, and in the educating power ot sci- -r^i • tt i 

, . ' .. Physics Jl ^ year. 

ence in general. As a consequence, four ^t ■ -> 

n ^^ ^ ^ n • 1 r Chemistry i year. 

ot the twenty-four courses required for •' -^ '' 

graduation, were in science. -Dropped from required 






ELECTIVE SCIENCE. Were ever at work for the upbuilding of 

Chemistrv II - vear science in the school. He was most active 

Chemistry III J year. ^" ^^^^ organization and support of the 

Zooloo-v i vear school chap er of the Agassiz Association, 

Geoloo-v ^ vear ^"*"^ ^^^ largely instrumental in creating 

Astronomv i vear ^^^^ degree of interest in science which has 

Botanv I ^ vear characterized the school. He was suc- 

Botanv II ^ vear ceeded by Mr. George VV. Martin, who has 

Paleontoloo-v - vear built up a laboratory which is accredited 

Physical Geography.'.'.'.'.".'.'.'.! year.' ^"^^^S ^^^^ best in the West for biological 

In addition to these offered courses the Some experimental work in physics was 
facilities for advanced laboratory work for undertaken by various teachers, but the 
individual students are unusually good, lirst permanent laboratory equipment was 
and are quite generally appreciated by our undertaken by Mr. M. E Crowell, in 1891. 
pupils. Course I. was equipped and in succ ssful 
The marked progress in science courses op ration during 1892 and 1893, when an 
has, however, been exceeded by the phe- additional laboratory for Course II. was 
nomenal growth of the method and equip- begun. Belbrrt this laboratory was com- 
ment of the several departments. Of the pleted, Mr. Crowell left the school to en- 
latter, sufficient evidence of the advance is gage in the manufacture of physical appa- 
contained in the accompanying plates, ratus, and Mr. John LaMay took his place, 
taken from photographs of the laboratories The entire department now occupies two 
as at present constituted. large laboratory rooms, one lecture room. 
As already stated, the first working and four smaller rooms for shop and stor 
laboratory for individual students was age facilities. 

equipped for chemistry in 1885. The de- The grade of work in the various de- 
velopment ah>ng pre-ent lines began in partments of science instruction has been 
1889, when Mr. George W. Benton was steadily rai-ed until their excellence has at- 
given charge of the department. During tracted widespread and deserved a tention 
the nine years since that time, the pupils in from educational institutions of every class, 
chemistry have furnished the data for two Further evidence of the rapid develop- 
published manuals, and the provisional ment of science in the school may be 
manuscript for a third. In 1897, the de- found in a comparison of the teaching 
partment was moved to the small building force in 1889 with that at present en- 
to the north of the main buiLling, and is gaged. In 1889, there were two science 
excellently equipped for elementary chem- teachers and no assistants; at present, 
ical instruction. there are four instructors and four as- 
The second working laboratory was sistants whose entire time is emp'oyed in 
started in bioloary by Mr. Wm. S. Lemen, carrying on the work of the departments 
in 1889. The northeast basement room In conclusion, it may be stated that the 
was utilized, and the department was just development of sc ence teaching in the 
getting into goo I running order, when, in High School has kept pace with educa- 
1892, the genial and thoroughly respected tional progress, and may well be con- 
instructor and friend (lied. It is but just templated with satisfaction by teachers and 
to say that Mr. Lemen's active energies the public. G. W. B. 





The High School Annual. 

Puiblishieci Each Year, in the Interests of the Indian^apolis High 
School, by the MLeiaibers of the Senior Class. 








1 I ^E are here to present the compliments of the Annual of '98, and incidentally 
\XJ to inform you that it has arrived under full sail after a peaceful passage. This 
much you may have gathered from the preceding pages or, perhaps, from the 
cover, but this editorial has been stereotyped for many years, and it is a part of the 
Annual which we feel it would be a sacrilege to remove. However, we are highly 
gratilied that we are enabled to follow still further our predecessors by placing the 
announcement in this column where it will never be read. 

We do not feel that the Annual is destined to enlighten the entire world in regard 
to our school life. Our circulation is of necessity limited to our own circle of interested 
friends. We can not quietly rest assured that we are of sufficient importance to interest 
the National Board of Education. We can not even predict with any certainty that 
our Annual will be the model for all literary productions henceforth. We may be 
censured for this pessimistic view, for we have often heard it said, " Not failure, but low 
aim, is crime." Surely it is possible to aim so high that the arrow^ will fall back upon 
the archer's head amid a cloudburst of conceit. 

Although we put beyond our reach many things which other Annual editors have 
striven for, there is one thing that we feel we may lay claim to with a clear conscience 
and the assurance of earnest effort — originality. We have not plagiarized ; we have 
not borrowed; we have not stolen. Give us this credit, and we ask no more. 
Other merits we hope we have ; you are free to award or withhold them ; of this we are 
sure. May it commend to you the '98 Annual. 


1 I ^HAT has made the Indianapolis High School so successful? First, its curriculum 
\XJ gives it an advantage over other schools. For most schools have prescribed 
two or more distinct courses of study, one of which must be chosen by the 
pupil on entering. This matter is not always decided rightly, as the pupil may not 
be sure as to which he prefers. But once having chosen, he must continue in that 
course or lose credit for all the subjects completed in that course. How sad to think 
of a born Latin scholar for four years solving equations and watching natural phenom- 
ena, or of a mathematical genius vainly endeavoring to untangle tlie mysteries of Greek 
and Latin sentences ! This mistake has been avoided in our High School. An oppor- 
tunity is given for a varied course, which may include mathematics, history, natural 
sciences, classics and modern languages, psychology and art. The studies required are 
the rudiments of a good edueation. And those wliicli are elective may be chosen accord- 
ing to the taste of the scholar. This method resembles that of colleges, and by this 
practice we are prepared to enter upon study carried on by the same method, only in a 
higher field. 

Then also the I. H. S. student is given greater freedom than is ordinarily the case. 
He is put upon his honor, and rarely does any misdemeanor occur. There are few 
schools that could send a delegation of 360 to a contest and return with its reputation 
for good discipline and courtesy unblemished. The Richmond contest surely reflects 
creditably upon our teachers and institution. We have spirit, plenty of it, but it finds 
vent in more honorable ways than by playing upon teachers and students such pranks 
as often occur in other schools. The visitor at the I. IL S. may find assembled various 
organizations — the Senate, the Mandolin Club, the Athletic, Nation's Birthday, and 
Oratorical Association. But the prevailing element is one of peace, not of disorder, 
since each one remembers that he is but a unit of the whole — one member of a large 

It is thought that between the ages of twelve and eighteen, many of the habits of 
life are formed. So it is that here we first form those ideals which guide us afterwards 
and prove fresh inspirations as the years pass by. We have seea the wondrous beauties 
of the realm of knowledge. We have wandered with Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant 
and Lowell, America's bards ; and with Tennyson we 

" Dipt into the future tar as human eye can see, 
Saw the vision of the world and all the wonders that would be." 

We have become acquainted with Carlyle and Bacon, Milton and Shakespeare. To the 
graduate who now goes out into the world, these will prove a guide, a solace and a 
comfort. As Cicero says, " Studies strengthen youth, they delight old age, they orna- 
ment prosperity, and otter a refuge and solace in adversity, they are pleasing at home, 
are not in the way out of doors, they stay through the night with us, they go abroad, 
they dwell in the country." The standard they hold up to us is lofty, but the four years 
now passed will aid us in attaining it. And when, as loyal American citizens, we, the 
members of '98, shall mingle with the world, no friend will seem nearer, no memory 
dearer than the I. H. S. 


FOR the past twelve weeks, High School recitations have been conducted amid the dis- 
cordant clashing of hammers, the buzzing of saws, and the sonorous voices of work- 
men ; amid the pungent odors of paint, oil and varnish,and in air white with lime dust. 
Every week we earnestly hoped would see the completion of the work, but every week 
saw something new begun. The only consolation the students could find in the dis- 
turbing din was the fact that the midwinter exaw.s were abolished on account of it. 
We expected to celebrate the last touches of the workmen by a reception to be given in 
the remodeled hall, but, alas ! in this we were disappointed, at least in so far as the place 
Avas concerned. 

But now at last the work is finished, inharmonious noises have ceased, and peace 
and order reign once more. The dark corridors with their dingy walls and their narrow 
and homely wooden stairways have been transformed into beautiful, light, open halls, 
whose sides are delicately colored with pale yellow and gray tints. A magnificent broad 
iron stairway has been erected in the middle of one wall in the corridor. Its firm oak 
steps and tiled landing, its iron banisters, and above all, the beautiful plate glass window 
behind it, make it a delight to the eye Even the basement has been made beautiful, 
and is particularly attractive because of the large and convenient wheel rooms especi- 
ally easy of access. 

Notwithstanding the many annoyances caused by having the improvements made dur- 
ing school hours, the students feel fully repaid for all their inconveniences by the resulting 
beauty and attractiveness of the building. We now cordially invite strangers and 
friends to inspect, admire, and praise. 

"From harmony, from heavenly harmony, 
This universal frame began 
From harmony to harmony. 

Through all the compass of the notes it ran, 
The diapason closing full in man." 

^Y^ USIC was the first sound heard in the creation, when the morning stars sang 
ill together. It was the first sound heard at the birth of Christ, when the angels 

' sang together above the plains of Bethlehem. It is the universal language 
which appeals to the universal heart of man. 

Music is not only an art but an exact science, and, in its highest form, logical and 
mathematical. The imagination does not have a free flight, but is held within the 
bounds of form. The mere possession of a poetical imagination and the capacity to 
receive music in its fullest emotional power will not lead one to the highest achieve- 
ment in musical art. With these subjective qualities must be combined the mastery of 
the theoretical intricacies and the mathematical problems which are the foundation 
principles of music. 

As the world has advanced, man has learned the true value of music. It is the 
interpreter and language of the emotions. It strikes every note in the gamut of 
human nature, from ecstatic joy to deep despair. It inspires, elevates, cheers, saddens 
and soothes the soul as no other one of the arts can. It gives voice to love, lends glory 
to every art, and performs its loftiest task as the " handmaiden of religion." So in our 
public schools to-day, music is one of the most important branches taught. This study 


seems to be such an aid to boys and girls that even in our high schools it is practiced. 
In our own I. H. S. for forty five minutes in each week (alas! how quickly they speed 
past) our school is flooded with a melody of music. This is to many of us a happy 
respite from the daily routine of school work and an encouragement for more zeal in 
our studies. Then, too, in nearly all our session rooms are seen pianos, and many 
pleasant moments are spent in listening to the talent of outsiders, as well as to that of 
members of the school. Music comes to us as a balm, a rest, or a solace among our 
pleasures and our sorrows : 

"Music the fiercest grief can charm, 
And fate's severest rage disarm ; 
Music can soften pain to ease, 
And make despair and madness please." 

Its sound influences men ; it makes them long for nobler things ; it recalls to their 
memory that there is a Divine Creator who watches over all. Its thrill pervades all 
nature — in the hum of the tiniest insect, in the top of the wind-tossed pines, in the 
solemn diapason of ocean. And there must come a time when it will be the only sug- 
gestion left of our nature and creation, since it alone, of all things on earth, is known 
in heaven. The human soul and music alone are eternal. 

THE sounds of war's alarms ring through the land once more. Standing on the 
brink of the future, with History's scribes prepared to write, we face the crisis. 
We stand prepared, nerved by the consciousness that it is an American principle 
for which we fight, the eternal principle of humanity. This is no war of conquest, 
of revenge or spite, but one urged by God's mandates. War is a process of terrible 
moment. It is a drama of climaxes. Rapid and fierce are its tests of national charac- 
ter. The strain and lashings of events bend and rack, but can not break the spirit of 
American patriotism. The youth of to-day, soothed by the chimes of peace, dares to 
spring forth at the same fierce bugle call that summoned his father to the strife in '61. 
The sire, now bent and worn from that dread conflict, realizing the meaning of war's 
awful portent, at the call of duty and humanity, sends forth his son to "do and die for 
the eternal right." He does it with the knowledge, too, that the son who leaves him as 
a boy will return, if at all, a man. War exerts its influence intensively on the character 
of men. Years crowd into a month, a lifetime into a year. Changes multiply with 
lightning swiftness ; experience increases ; events overwhelm in one grand sweep beyond 
the power of human means to check. In the midst of this turmoil, youths learn to live 
as men. They learn to live as men for good or bad, according to the influences they 
acknowledge as their own. Here, indeed, the child is father to the man, and 

"The soul that can render an honest and a perfect man, 
Commands all light, all influence, all fate," 

while that which abstracts but the dross from life will live and die ingloriously — a 


But whatever trials may come, one emblem there is that should inspire the pa- 
triot — the national flag. The flag 

" Of three bright colors, each divine, 
And fit for that celestial sign. 
For Freedom's hands had blended them 
Like tints in an immortal gem. 

" One tint was of the sunbeam's dyes, 
One the blue depths of seraph's eyes. 
One the pure spirit's veil of white 
Had robed in radiance of its light; 
The three, so mingled, did beseem 
The texture of a heavenly dream." 

Aye! a dream indeed — a dream of freedom accomplished; of civilization realized; 
of the martyred heroes' hopes fulfilled. Patron of peace for happiness; deity of war 
for righteousness, let it wave. Personifying the law enforced ; signifying right accom- 
plished, it is the emblem of a new humanity. Within its stripes enfolded we see the 
millions bound as one. Races disappear, geographical lines vanish, and in the inspira- 
tion of its presence we applaud the sentiment " Our Country ! " 

WE have completed our High School life. For four years during the crucial 
moments of the formative period of our existence, we have worked and lived 
subject to such influence as the school might have upon us. As post-graduates 
and seniors, we certainly have some opinion of the methods pursued within the school. 
This is surely to be commended. Very poor pupils indeed, we think, would we 
have been if we had formed no individual ideas of the propriety or expediency of 
the events occurring about us. The intelligent pupil sees a side of school life which 
the teacher is unable to observe, but it should be considered the duty of the pupil, and 
especially of the senior, to make apparent such things as in his mind are necessary for 
the teacher to know. The teachers should encourage this attitude; they should not 
consider honest criticism as hostile or impudent; they know each pupil individually 
and should be able to estimate correctly the weight of his utterance. Every pupil 
should feel that he has a place in the mind of his teacher, and be made to know that 
an especial interest is taken in his welfare. The timid should be encouraged, not 
ignored. It is the duty of the teacher to discover ability as well as develop it. No 
pupil should be extravagantly arrogated above his fellows ; the intelligent and talented 
pupil is able, with a certain amount of good, wholesome advice, to take care of himself; 
the object should be to teach the dull or careless ones to be intelligent and diligent; 
and to advise the intelligent and energetic ones as to the best means of attaining their 

This is one important point merely indicated in passing. There is another which 
it was our original purpose to mention. 


This High School, noted the land over, contains about one thousand students. 
Unlike college students, they all live in the same city. But it is rather strange to note 
how many pupils there are who are unacquainted with their school-mates. A pupil of 
the morning meets a pupil ot the afternoon as a perfect stranger; a member of Room A 
goes into Room F and he feels as though he were in China. There is not enough 
mingling. Pupils come and go without the least idea who many of their room- 
mates are. This is not right ; it is not the proper spirit to encourage among the 
pupils. There is something else besides acquiring a reputation among colleges, based 
on the work of a comparatively small number of "show" pupils. There should be 
some social life among the students. The senior receptions are supposed to answer 
this purpose. This they do, in a way, but why compel a pupil to wait until he is a 
senior before he is allowed to engage in any social functions whatever? Why wait until 
he is ready to graduate before he is permitted to become acquainted with his school- 
mates? There is no sensible reason for this so far as we have been able to learu. 
One of the editors noted with considerable surprise on the trip to Richmond how many 
H. S. people there were with whom he was unacquainted, and he has had every oppor- 
tunity of becoming acquainted with the H. S. students. 

IsTow, we respectfully suggest that those in authority make it a practice of allowing 
the school to give a reception, in some form or other, once a term, in addition to the 
regular senior reception. This is done successfully in other schools, and con- 
tributes much to heighten the school spirit and loyalty of the students. These func- 
tions need not always take the same form, and the matter of how, and by whom, can 
be decided according to such suggestions as may be made. The Annual advocates this 
plan, the classes of '98 advocate it, and many members of the school, both under- 
graduates and alumni, do likewise. Let this idea be encouraged; let it be thoroughly 
and fairly discussed, and then let action be taken. Immense benefit would surely ac- 
crue ; interest in athletic-', oratory, and all other school institutions would be stimulated ; 
and at the end of school life, the graduate would look back on a time much happier and 
more beneficially spent. 

THE Annual extends its thanks to Miss Selleck and the members of her art classes 
who contributed so much to the artistic success of this year's issue. The An- 
nual congratulates itself and the school on being able to get this work done 
wholly within the school. We hope that in future years, the practice will be con- 
tinued and that Miss Selieck's aid and advice will be as thoroughly relied on and ap- 
preciated as has been the case with us. 








^*HE Cinch Club is an organization of 
\^ recent growth. The idea of forming 
such a club originated in the fertile 
imagination of John Craig. The idea was 
very favorably received, and soon there 
were scores of applicants for admission to 
the club. After due consideration and a 
great deal of wrangling, it was decided, for 
the welfare of the club, that no girls be 
admitted within its folds. At first enthu- 
siasm was lacking, and when the first 
meeting was held the required number was 
not present, owing to the fact that some 
of the boys' mammas objected to their 
going out alone in the night. {These boys 
were members of the '99 class.) Nevertheless 
there were but two vacancies. At this 
meeting Major Downing was elected Pres- 
ident, and Alan Williams, Secretary. 

The club was a great rain producer. If 
any one contemplated giving a party or 
other social event on our meeting night we 
were always requested to defer our meeing 
till another time. Such was our fame, for 
it rained every meeting night of the club 
except one. 

A small prize was given at each meeting, 
and to the person having the largest num- 
ber of games to his credit at the end of the 
seat-on a larger prize will be given. A 
small consolation pr ze is given to the per- 
son who wins the least number of games. 
Waite Colgan has the the cleanest record, as 
he came out with an undefaced tally card 
one evening, having failed to win a game. 
Keene is entitled to "honorable mention" 
in this line. The propensities of some of 
the members to handle the " pasteboards " 
have been wonderfully developed, and the 
club stands ready to meet all competitors. 

After success had been a'^sured to the 
organization, applications for membership 
became as plentiful as " Spanish victories 
according to official reports." Many came, 

but few were chosen. At each meeting 
the club is tortured by the musical attempts 
of two members, Houser and Downing. 
Occasionally Keene and Craig perform for 
the club, but they are such high-salaried 
artists that their engagements are few and 
far between. There have been some ex- 
citing times and very close finishes. Sud- 
denly the midnight stillness is broken by 
Joe Hall, who bids "twelve" on "four 
queens." But the best (?) player of all is 
Fletcher Wagner. lie bid "eleven" one 
night on the "jack, e'ght spot and low." 
He said, "I counted on my partner's hav- 
ing the ace, king, queen and ten spot." 

At one of the meetings the club was 
thnjwn into consternation by the appear- 
ance of two Kentucky belles at the home 
of Max Graves, but the members, rallying 
under the more experienced leaders, Messrs, 
Downing and Keene, passed the evening 
without any se-ious mishaps. 

When it became known, at the time of 
organization, that girls were to be denied 
admission, there were numerous predictions 
that the club would come to a speedy and 
tragic death ; but, contrary to all expecta- 
tions, the Cinch Club has flourished and is 
rapidly becoming a power in the High 
School. We, as the officers, hope that the 
"under classes" will follow our illustrious 
example and make this a permanent and 
masculine organization. 

M. A. D. 

A. W. 


7"HE Senate chamber, rich in historic 
\3 memories, and embellished by works 
of art, contains the elements which 
inspire awe and encourage to sublime effort. 
Lincoln's sweet face looks sadly down upon 
frequent scenes of wildest confusion, com- 
pared with which those of the ante-bellum 



days were but as evening mist to a cloud- 
burst. Gartield is there, too, and between the 
two martyr presidents is the immortal im- 
age of old John Brown — all martyrs — look- 
ing down with appreciative sympathy upon 
that other martyr, Miss Laura Donnan, 
doomed to listen to the classic outbursts of 
silver tongues and roaring Torrence. As 
the evening shades draw on and the gas is 
lit by some discourteous janitor standing 
sacrilegiously upon the desk of some proud 
Senator, the chamber becomes more cosy, 
and as the visitor reclines contentedly in 
his hard-back desk, and surveys with calm- 
ness the site of hard-fought battles, his eyes 
rest upon the picture of " Chillon's gray 
walls." Oh, dark, prophetic picture ! 
Mingling of the tragic and romantic ! 
How appropriate for such a place ! For, 
dear reader, know that within these walls 
many an ambition has had a tragic close ; 
and at least one combination, a romantic 
background. But hush! The orators have 
entered the arena ! Posterity demands that 
I begin my task. 

The Senate chamber is as silent as the 
tomb. With dignified but determined car- 
riage, a Senator of serpentine grace has 
risen in the rear and glides rapidly toward 
the front, darting his small, cold eyes like 
one expecting an attack. His face is all 
aglow, his cheeks rtd as the hectic brilliancy 
of some dire disease. His lips tremble ; the 
ashy hue of awful passion spreads over his 
features, and he fairly spits out his words, 
with no pause between volleys. In a brief 
five minutes, he denounces the world, re- 
nounces uiankind, and pronounces sentence 
of destruction upon this sleepy world, un- 
able to fathom the depths of his French 
philosi'phy. His voice rises and falls dis- 
mally like the moaning of the wind on a 
winter's night. His logic flavors of Irish 
Hill and his figures sometimes rise to that 
dignity. Witli a closing curse upon all 
opponents, he takes his seat amid applause 

from literary connoisseurs and laughter 
from the practical. Such is Pax. P. Hibben. 

George Langsdale has a bad name, and 
sustains his reputation. He is tall and 
slender, like a cornstalk in October. He 
is beautifully liberal with his gestures. 
Have you ever seen a scarecrow in a cherry 
grove, with sleeves outstretched, but too 
long for the wooden arms waving wildly in 
the breeze like those of a convivial gallant 
in the tender hours ot dawn? Well, that 
is Langsdale. His gestures remind one ot 
a corkscrew in a whirlpool. He is as 
unique as Choate ever was, and in lan- 
guage he is as precise. 

When not engaged with thirteen-year- 
old visitors (for this grave lawmaker is 
very fond of young children) Victor Krene, 
small but bouncing like mamma's little 
man, bobs up and dreamily says his little 
piece. Invariably the following lines are 
conjured up in the memory of the auditor: 

"There was a little man, and he had a little voice, 
And he said : ' Little voice let us try, try, try, 
Whether its within our reach, to make up a little 
Just between you and little I.'" 

Political enemies declare that he is ad- 
vance agent for Mme. Yale, but pish, 
that's a lie, of course. ]^o ; I would not 
utter a word against him, for he is a 
valiant warrior and has often smelt 

Childe Harold Jones is tall, slender, 
erect as the pines of his beloved South, 
precise as discipline, and fair as Apollo. 
His hair, when roached back, reveals a 
classic brow. But look ! What is that 
charming thing in his cheek resembling 
the indentation of an angel's fist? Why, 
h'S dimple, of course; his dimple, his dim- 
ple. He spends most of his time in prun- 
ing his famous laugh down to human pro- 
portions. Oh, may he succeed ! 

Helen Werbe reminds one, in many re- 
spects, of Du Maurier's Trilby — personal 



characteristics and subserviency to anoth- 
er's whim. Yet there is a decisive differ- 
ence. You will remember that poor Trilliy, 
while under the horrid spell of the wretched 
Svengali, sent forth upon the trembling 
air melodies of superhuman beauty. But 
H. W.'s Svengali has awed his victim into 
dread silence. Oh, may the spell be 
broken, that we may once again hear her 
emphatic intonation in the high arena of 

Fletcher Wagner is a pessimist, and a 
dealer in studied wit. Like his fellow- 
countryman, Carl Schurz, he relies mostly 
on manuscript. It would be impossible to 
describe physically one so small with a pen 
so coarse. While speaking, an infantine 
smile plays hide-and-go-seek upon his lips. 
He is a dangerous adversary when not 
connected with a machine — the machine 
hides him. "A word to the wise," you 

Take up your rare old art portfolio and 
find an oriental type — jet black hair, dark, 
queenly, mirthful eyes, and an independent 
air that woos the summer breezes and sniffs 
with pride the air of freedom, and write 
beneath it Myla Jo Closser. (Ahem ! very 
good.) Her greatest fault is in getting the 
histrionic art confounded with the orator- 

ical ; in mixing logic with Keats. Lover 
of the beautiful, she is, however, fond of 
some things that are not very beautiful. 

But hark! Out from the Democratic 
corner tremble the passionate words, " Lib- 
erty, equali'y, fraternity." We look about 
in alarm. There is the orator; a giant up, 
a pigmy across. With the mind of a Marat, 
the voice of a Mirabeau, the passion of a 
Danton, he shrieks out: " The Trilby feet 
of Capital are on the slender neck of 
Labor." His long, angular arms strike out 
wildly, his face is contorted, his eyes blaze. 
Ha ! good for Frank William Spencer. 

" His health ! I would there lived 
Some more of such a frame, 
That life might be all poetry 
And weariness — a name." 

The writer would not bear a pen picture 
himself. There are some people beyond 
the expression of art. The writer is one. 

Long live the Senate! Here the heart 
expands, the mind soars, laughter sits en- 
throned, gaudy imagination comes down 
from ethereal heights, sits upon our shoul- 
ders and whispers in our ears. Here we 
fathom one another's natures, love, fight, 
and drown our quarrels in mirth's sweet 
pool. Long live the Senate. C. G. B. 



THE Mandolin Club is now in the sec- 
ond year of its existence. It has had 
a varied and interesting career. It 
has long been noted for its exclnsiveness, 
and is known as an "all star" combina- 
tion. Many new features have been added 
to the club this year. 

Rehearsals are held once a week, on 
Wednesday afternoon. After an hour's 
hard practice, the " girl members " of the 
club are dismissed and the boys, locking 
the doors, give a vaudeville entertainment 
under the inspiring tune of " The Mid- 
way." It is here that " Pete " Newcomb 
shines in stellar glory. Oh ! If Apollo 
and Diana could only talk, what stories 
they would tell. 

There are two clubs in the school ; one 
a club composed wholly of boys, and 
another club composed of boys and girls. 
Late in February the boys of the boys and 
girls' club united with the boys' club and 
formed a new club. This club went to 
Richmond to attend the Oratorical con- 
test. It was composed of twenty-five 
boys. Its repertoire was varied, but it 
scored the biggest triumph when it played 
the popular marches of Sousa. 

The club at present consists of: 

J. Ray Newcomb First Mandolin. 

John Craig First Mandolin. 

Noble Dean First Mandolin. 

Major Downing First Mandolin. 

Walter Bond Second Mandolin. 

G. Hines Share Second Mandolin. 

Paxton Pluto Hibben Second Mandolin. 

Will Craig Guitar. 

Charles Wilson Guitar. 

Charles Sullivan Guitar. 

John Day Guitar. 

Claude McGinnis Guitar. 

Elmer Eckhouse Flute. 

Blaine Miller Viola. 

John Pierson Cello. 

Arnold Spencer Piano. 

Victor Keene Leader. 


50 the long list of red-letter days in the 
annals of the Indianapolis High School 
must be added February 25-20, 1H98. 
The dates were made memorable by the 
production of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic 
opera "• lolanthe," at the Grand Opera 
House, by sixty High School and Training 
School pupils. Much of the success of the 
production was due to Mrs. Perle Wilkin- 
son, under whose direction the opera was 
produced. She was particularly well qual- 
ified to direct the production, from her 
experience in England with Gilbert and 
Sullivan in the production of their operas. 
Much praise is also due to the chorus of 
fifty High School students. This chorus 
was drilled for many months before the 
production of the opera. 

Competent critics have said that the 
pupils exhibited unusual excellence in their 
dramatic work and in their vocalization, 
and that the balance in harmonics was 
remarkable. The presentation was a rev- 
elation to musical people of what High 
School students were capable of doing, 
and it reflected great credit upon our 
school and Mrs. Wilkinson. 

Although all the members of the cast 
sang and acted their parts in an artistic 
and creditable manner, Arnold F. Spencer 
carried off the honors. His "local hits" 
were greatly enjoyed and frequently en- 
cored His voice is full and resonant. He 
took the trying role of Lord Chancellor 
and acted it in a very creditable manner. 
Miss Attia Malott, as the fairy Celia, sang 
her part well. 

The opera abounds in many amusing 
complications, which render it very spark- 
ling and vivacious. 




rY\ ARCH 25, the day of the long ex- 
/ I I pected contest, dawned clear and 
' ' bright. The clouds, which had for 
three days shut out the sun from view, had 
disappeared in the night, bi'inging joy to 
more than one H. S. pupil. 

Suppressed excitement was manifest all 
the morning. Lessons were gotten through 
with as easily as possible, and long before 
noon, all those who were going to Richmond 
had gone home to prepare for the trip. By 
1 o'clock, the crowd began to gather at the 
Union Station, and in a short time filled the 
wholebuilding, crowding out every one else, 
while we made the place ring with our oft- 
repeated "yells." As soon as the gates 
were opened, we swarmed into the train, 
which was quickly filled. 

Who will ever forget that trip ? N^ever 
was there a happier, jollier crowd gathered 
together. Every one seemed to realize that 
such an opportunity would not occur again 
soon and was making the most of it. Old 
friends collected in small groups, or went 
marching through the train making new 

The Mandolin Club seized the rear coach. 
Here they entertained their friends, and, 
judging from the noise they made, all in that 
car at least enjoyed themselves. At each 
stopping place the whole crowd " piled off" 
the train to awaken the natives along the 
way, and let them know who we were. In 
this we succeeded, as their anxious and 
astonished looks fully showed. 

All good things have an end, however, 
and 80 with our picnic. Richmond 
was soon reached, and the excitement 
increased until it was at fever heat. All 
Richmond was there to meet us. The news 
of our coming had spread, and the whole 
town had turned out to see our arrival. 
Cohen soon collected the Indianapolis 

crowd, and under his leadership the yelling 
began with a mighty " We've come to make 
the Quakers shake — we've come to make 
the Shakers quake," and "Indianapolis, 
rah, rah, rah." 

After sufficiently introducing ourselves 
to the assembled crowd, we started for the 
Westcott, where we again explained to the 
accompanying multitudes who we were 
and the object of our visit. Then we sep- 
arated, in search of food and amusement. 
The Westcott, with its decorations in the 
colors of the diflJerent schools, was the 
center of attraction. Here, in the parlors, 
all assembled, and until dinner time the 
difii'erent delegations mingled, exchanging 
greetings and making friends. 

Promptly at 7 o'clock, Cohen gathered 
his legion of rooters iu front of the hotel, 
and the march was begun to the "Bradley 
Opera House," the scene of our victory 
and of Richmond's Waterloo. 

Fifteen minutes after the doors were 
opened, the opera-house was packed to 
the utmost. Fully 1,500 people were 
crowded into the place, every seat was 
filled, and a great number stood in the 
aisles and along the walls during the en- 
tire evening. 

Who could describe that scene ? The 
bright and happy young faces; the gay 
dresses and fiyiug colors; the air of con- 
fidence noticeable in each delegation, born 
of their confidence in their speaker, and, 
above all, the noise, that noise " which 
needeth no repetition." 

On the first floor, Indianapolis occupied 
two of the sections, while Portland, Plain- 
field and South Bend were seated in the 
third. The balcony was given over ex- 
clusively to the Richmond II. S., and out- 
siders found seats where they could, or 
stood in the aisles. 

Four hundred strong, the Indianapolis 
crowd marched in, and waited quietly 
until the " carnation-faced youth " gave 



the signal, and then, with a mighty 
ITiagara-like roar, hurst forth with a 
tremendous, "Injun! Injun! Injunap!" 
that fairly shook the huilding. This " aw- 
ful noise" was clearly a surprise to the 
other schools, as their thunderstruck looks 
clearly betrayed. But, gradually recover- 
ing themselves, they began, in their feeble 
way, to indicate where they sat and for 
whom they were cheering. But the efforts 
of all, even of the Richmond crowd, which 
was as large as ours, were unavailing until 
the Portland City Band, in a moment of 
comparative quiet, came to the rescue of 
the mute sufferers by " blaring " out such 
popular tunes as, "A Hot Time," "All Coons 
Look Alike to Me," etc. Indianapolis, how- 
ever, refused to yield, even to this brazen 
enemy, and the contest continued " hot and 
heavy" until the curtain " went up." 

Then, up went the curtain, and with a 
last mighty shout of welcome and antici- 
pated triumph, in which all joined, the 
whole crowd settled down to listen to the 
contest, suppressing their enthusiasm, 
which hope and fear, contending for the 
mastery of their feelings, rendered less 

First came Mr. Sherlocke, of Madison, 
who spoke on " Cuban Independence." 
He was followed by Bowers. Our Bowers ! 
Bowers the Incomparable ! Bowers the 
Mighty! Bowers the Personification of 
Eloquence, with " Hamilton, the Construc- 
tionist" for his subject. There was an 
air of general expectancy as he stepped to 
the front, and all, even Richmond, list- 
ened attentively to every word he said. 
When he began, it was evident from their 
actions that, while they feared him most, 
Richmond anticipated no difficulty in de- 
feating him, for they knew Miss Hollings- 
worth's ability, and their confidence was 
but the natural consequence of their 
knowledge. But, as he continued, they 
became alarmed, and this feeling became 

more and more manifest, until, by the time 
he finished, all ho[)e of winning had left 
them, and even the most sanguine of her 
supporters acknowledged, by their down- 
cast faces and dejected manner, that they 
realized that Miss Hollingsworth had met 
her superior in the " pale, slight youth " 
from Indianapolis. While the Richmond 
H. S. Orchestra was playing, however, and 
during the speech of Miss Green, of Plain- 
field, on "Death, a Punishment for Crime," 
they recovered their nerve, if not their con- 
fidence, and the ovation with which they 
greeted their orator was the greatt-st of 
the evening. Every one, friend and foe 
alike, joined in this demonstration, and 
well was it deserved, for only once has her 
effort been excelled, and it will probably 
never again be beaten. Under ordinary 
circumstances, such an oration, with such 
perfect delivery, could be counted upon for 
an easy victory. It was easy to see wh3' 
Richmond was so confident. 

The I. H. S. Mandolin Club then played, 
and judging by the applause, made a great 
" hit." For an encore, they gave their 
famous medley ending with our well known 
song : 

"Oh, you must be a member of the I. H. S., 
Or you couldn't win a contest if you'd try." 

The whole Indianapolis crowd joined in 
the song with a spirit that fairly disgusted 
our rival rooters. 

The last two speakers were Mr. Jellison, 
of Portland, and Mr. Locke, of South Bend. 
They spoke on " The Dangers of Vast For- 
tunes" and "The Worship of Mammon," 
respectively. While we were waiting for 
the judges' decision, the yelling was re- 
sumed with renewed force and vigor. This 
time Richmond and Indianapolis were the 
particular contestants, and the struggle 
became hotter and liotter until our boys in 
their enthusiasm climbed up onto the stage, 
over chairs, piano, music racks and foot- 
lights, with a zeal that nothing could stop. 



An attempt was made to ring down the 
curtain on them, but it was abandoned, and 
the boys held the position in triumph. 

At this moment, the decision of the 
judges was returned, and all quickly took 
their seats to hear the verdict which they 
had already guessed. The decision gave 
Indianapolis first place, Richmond second, 
and South Bend third. 

'Twas a mighty shout with which 
we greeted the announcement of our vic- 
tory. Indianapolis was yelling in earnest 
now. For ten minutes it was kept up, then 
all turned out into the street and made for 
the Westcott, heralding our victory far and 
near. All Richmond was in darkness, but 
the beaming countenances of the smiling 
Indianapolitans rendered other illumina- 
tions unnecessary. At the Westcott, an 
informal reception was held, with speeches 
by Bowers, Cohen, Prof. Dotey and others, 
with cheers for every one and everything 
in sight. At twelve o'clock, part of the 
crowd left for home, but the rest stayed at 
the hotel and made the night hideous until 
two o'clock. In fact, there was little sleep 
for any one that night. In the morning, the 
jollification continued, and until our depart- 
ure, little was heard besides Indianapolis 
yells. On the way home, the same course 
was pursued, and few are the persons along 
the road from Richmond to Indianapolis 
who did not know that the I. H. S. was out 
on a holiday lark that day. 

Too much can not be said in praise of 
our entertainment at Richmond. There 
was not a single occurrence to mar the 
pleasure, and if any one failed to enjoy 
himself, it was his own fault. We have 
only praise for the magnificent way in 
which we were treated. And so, with just 
pride in our past triumphs and bright hopes 
for the future, let us all say "Long live the 
Oratorical Association." 

F. W. S. 


THIS comparatively recent organization 
of our school is now in its third year, 
and has thus far successfully performed 
its function as a promoter of patriotic 
principles. We propose that the old-time 
spirit of patriotism, which characterized 
our forefathers in their struggle for polit- 
ical freedom, shall be preserved in ours 
and succeeding generations which will live 
to enjoy the privileges of free government 
and independent thought. We believe a 
like organization in every High School 
would be productive of the highest good, 
as it would help to establish in the mind 
of the student the great fact that he is an 
American citizen and a subject of the 
greatest government of history. If it be 
true, and we have no reason to doubt it, 
that in the public schools will be found 
the future bulwark of the nation, it is 
certainly of the utmost importance that 
in them the fires of patriotism be kept 

The main provision of the constitution 
of the Association is one requiring that a 
public celebration, patriotic in nature, be 
given annually, and under supervision of 
the officers elected in the month of Feb- 
ruary preceding. In accordance with this 
provision, a celebration was given April 19, 
in Plymouth Church. 

At the last regular election the follow- 
ing officers were elected : 

President — Thos. A. Sims. 

Vice-President — Julia C. Hobbs. 

Secretary — Pax P. Hibben. 

Treasurer — F. W. Spencer. 

These officers, together with a committee 
of students, constituted the program com- 
mittee. The committee asked and obtained 
the consent of Mr. John L. Griffiths to 



speak for the Association on "Abraham 
Lincoln." However, a few days prior to 
the date of the engagement, he was called 
East by the death of his father. The com- 
mittee then called upon Judge James B. 
Black, who kindly consented to fill the 
place of Mr. Griffiths, and deliver for us 
his address on " George Washington." A 
good audience greeted the speaker, and 
his references to the Cuban situat on were 
loudly applauded, especially his tribute to 
" old Maximo Gomez." The address was 
supplemented by various well-rendered 
musical numbers, in which Mrs. Dewhurst, 
a mandolin trio. Prof. Paul Bahr, and Mr. 
Cameron participated. Claude G. Bowers 
was given an ovation as he stepped to the 
platform to read the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. Much gratification was expressed 
by the Association at this year's success, 
and, by its repeated efibrts, it hopes to 
make the annual celebrations events of 
widespread intei-est. 

T. A. S., '99. 


1 I ^HILE the fame of the Art Depart- 
\XJ ment of the Indianapolis High 

School may not be so widespread 
as that of the other departments, its work 
ranks equal with, or even above, that of 
any other public school in the United 
States. Teachers of art all over the 
United States send for drawings made by 
pupils of our High School. The credit for 
bringing the work up to such a high stand- 
ing is due almost entirely to our excellent 
teacher, Miss Selleck. A great part of 
Miss Selleck's success lies in her power to 
inspire her pupils with a true art spirit 
and a love for art. 

The classes are growing larger every 
year, and the interebt taken in the work 

is constantly increasing. This term there 
are six classes — four in the morning and 
two in the afternoon. The pupils are 
working in pencil and charcoal, and many 
excellent studies are made. Every Friday, 
a lecture on Composition in Art is given, 
and each pupil is requested to bring an 
illustration of the work discussed. The 
work as a whole is characterized by its 
freedom, strength, and individuality. 

Those who are especially talented or in- 
terested in drawing, continue it beyond 
the regular course. They work in pencil, 
water colors, pen and ink, and charcoal. 
Every Monday and Thursday, they draw 
from life. Tliese en'husiastic art students 
are not satisfied with working only during 
the school week, so, every Saturday even- 
ing, a life-class, which has the advantage 
of Mr. Stark's criticism with that of Miss 
Selleck, meets at High School, in the draw- 
ing rooms. 

Last summer, during vacation, the Attic 
League, consisting of members of the 
drawing classes, met twice every week to 
draw from life and nature, and many in- 
teresting studies were made. 

There are many people who have the 
idea that if they have no talent for draw- 
ing, it is a waste of time for them to study 
it. But this idea is a wrong one. Do pu- 
pils study art to become artists? If they 
do, they will be greatly disappointed, for 
I doubt whether three in all the drawing 
classes will ever become artists. Then why 
do they study art? They study it, not to 
learn how to draw, but for the influence it 
has upon their characters. Every person 
who studies art is enabled to judge and 
enjoy the works of true artists, and to 
love and enjoy the works of that queen of 
artists. Dame Nature. Only those who 
have banished this old, mistaken idea as 
to the real use of art, can recognize the 
true value of art. Amy Kothe, '98. 




THE teacher, who criticises three times 
a week, poses the model to suit him- 
self upon a high platform in the mid- 
dle of the room and the students choose 
their own positions around him, but the 
nearest row must be at least two lengths 
distant from the model. Some draw in 
pencil, others in crayon, but the majority 
use charcoal, which is the best medium for 
this kind of work. 

The class is composed largely of young 
men who work during the day, and whose 
only chance to do anything in this line is 
at night. They are quiet and work dili- 
gently while the model is posing, and have 
a good time during rests, but as soon as 
the model is in position again, everything 
is quiet and orderly, and no sound is heard 
except the scratching ot the charcoal or 
an occasional word of criticism from the 

teacher, as he looks over the shoulder of a 

Very few know how hard it is to get a 
good model, for posing is difficult work. 
Two things are needed in a successful 
model — a good form and endurance. A 
model without endurance is troublesome in 
the extreme, for it is necessary in that case 
to rest so often that very little can be ac- 
complished in a pose. A good model can 
hold a comparatively easy position an 
hour, a diflBcult one half an hour. 

Some day Indianapolis may be the art 
center of the West, as Mr. John Herron, 
dying three years ago, left an estate worth 
a quarter of a million to the Indianapolis 
Art Assoc'ation. The proceeds of this 
estate will go entirely to the advancement 
of art in this city, and it is expected that, 
as a beginning, a building will be erected 
with part of it, which will be the home of 

Mark Denms. 



SHE PURITAN SUPPER was the lo2;ical consequence of the spirit of the classes 
of "98. It was typical of their industry and their originality, and a compliment 
to their generosity and gracious hospitality. The idea of a Puritan Supper as a 
substitute for a class play, which had been forbidden by the faculty, was suggested by 
the generous sympathy ot Miss Donoan, and was the method adopted by the Senior 
classes of '98 to raise a fund for the traditional purpose of presenting the school with 
a work of art to serve as a memento of their existence as a class, and as an emblem of 
appreciation for a life's education well founded, and a life's endeavor auspiciously begun. 
The evening of N'ovember 20th was one of rare pleasure. Old graduates of many 
years' standing, accustomed to consider the High School in a perfunctory manner, 
met with classmates once again, and, under the refreshing influence of those solid edibles 
which sustained their sturdy Puritan forefathers, graciously and gracefully tendered 
them by our bewitching Priscillas, experienced feelings of reverence and affection for 
the old school that had, perhaps, for many j^ears lain dormant within them. Then the 
undergraduate of one year's standing here witnessed with astonishment, perhaps, but 
surely with delight, the full bloom of Seniordom. 

Everybody had a good time. Everybody, from Prof. Aaron Isaac Dotey, who 
came with one of his best girls to " spend a dollar and have a good time," to 
use his own words, down to the sweet young thing in the ice-cream booth, who de- 
lightedly bewitched the dollar out of the said Aaron Isaac's pocket. The booths, taste- 
fully arranged at the south end of the hall, were one constant attraction. There was 
the art booth, where one could purchase anything from a sweater to a prayer-book, 
and the candy and flower booths, laden with sweets and beauty. And Lady Prudence 
was there, but she belied her name, for she was outrageously extravagant with her 
charms that night, and caused many an imprudent youth to ponder seriously on the 
seductive wiles of beauty. Indeed, one not initiated into the mysteries of the fairy-like 
deftness of our class girls would hardly have imagined that only that morning this hall 
was occupied solely, and littered entirely, with cornstalks, which now are seen clustered 
so becomingly around the booths. It seemed as though every member of the H. S. 
was there, together with his "cousins, and his sisters, and his aunts," each enjoying 
himself in his own way. Miss "Isabel" Jones was there, all dimples and smiles, but, 
owing to the extreme modesty of her nature, she refused to don the Puritan garb, 
which would, undoubtedly, have made her the fairest of the fair. How sweet would 
Isabel have looked with a cute little Puritan bonnet encircling her demure, young face, 
and a tidy, white apron about her waist! The boys will never forgive her tor her lack 
of nerve. However, she did try to do the right thing, and, under the title of" Deacon," 
she unexpectedly treated the whole crowd to cider. Bowers was there, too. lie looked 
lost that night. Something was lacking from his happiness; we can't tell who she was. 
Sometimes he looked as though a hideous nightmare was following him. Perhaps she 
was. Poor boy ! 

Pax P — Hibben, of course, was not among the missing. On the contrary he was 
quite abundant. He was full of fire that night. One very dear to him (eo tempore) 



was in dire distress. To the rescue he rushed with legions of money. The contest for 
the most popular girl was fierce and close. Hibben, the one lone martyr of a noble 
cause, fought on, fought on, 

Borrowing to right of him, 
Borrowing to left of him, 

bulldozing his enemies, cajoling his friends — while all the girls wondered. At last 
his credit failed. His champion lost, and that night, as home he wended his wear^^ 
way, Ave imagine that pie, turkey and Puritan maidens rested heavily on his despon- 
dent soul. 

As the supper was the girls' afiair, the boys of the class were simply guests. 
They were expected to wait until the "multitude" were served, like the "small 
boy of the family," you know. This proposition went against the stomachs and 
and the dignity of some of the boys, so early in the evening they appropriated a table 
and indulged in their old propensity of a regular banquet, with wine of words and 
honey of sentiments, ever and anon emphasized by Mr. IlufFord's " Hurry up, hurry up, 
don't talk all night." After Torrence had eaten six pieces of pie, and Jesse Wall had 
drowned himself and his sorrows in a " flowing cup " (of coflliee), they adjourned for the 
dance. The tables cleared away, we danced. "Amidst the maze of twinkling feet, 
inspired by music soft and sweet," we danced the night away. Then reminded by 
Eckhouse's despairing wail of "are you all done?" we ceased, and as we went home, 
lingering in our ears was the refrain of that good old banquet table song, 

O you must be a lover of a Puritan maiden, 
Or you won't get your second piece of pie. 

G. J. L. 


'EVER in the history of 
High School Athletics 
have the prospects of the 
association heen more encour- 
aging, or the indications for a 
success' ul season more auspi- 
cious at the opening of the 
season, than they were this 
Spring. The association has 
never been in a better condition 
hnancially than it is at present, 
the students have entered into 
tlie spirit of athletics with un- 
usual vim and enthusiasm; 
progressive officers have been 
elected and competent com- 
mittees appointed. 

Hitherto, for some unexplain- 
able reason, the Freshmen and 
Juniors have never taken a 
very active part in school ath- 
letics. It may have been be- 
cause they felt that their inex- 
perience and lack of eontidence 
in their own powers handi- 
capped them to such an extent 
that competition was worse 
than useless, or it may have 
been because they were not 
given any, or sufficient encour- 
agement, by the older members 
of the association. Whatever 
the restrictions may have been, 
they have been eliminated this 
year ; special events and handi- 
cap races having been put on 
the program for the special 
benefit of the younger students 
and every inducement has been 
given them to enter the con- 
tests. It will be well for the future of the association if they can be made to realize 
that from the Ereshman and Junior ranks must come the athletes and champions of 
succeeding " Field Days" ; and that it is their duty to maintain the honor and break the 
records of the I. H. S. Athletic Association. C. L. 



E. EcKHOUSE Manager. 

0. QuizzEB Catcher. 

A. WiiTTTRiDGE Pitcher. 

E. Bell First base. 

F. Kelly Second base. 

L. Anthony Short stop. 

G. Kerr (Captain) Third base. 

H. Bo-SLER Left field. 

M. Talbot Center field. 

F. Bronsox Right field. 


5H0KTLY after the Athletic Associa- 
tion was organized last year, it was 
learned that the Industrial Training 
School wished to join with us in athletics. 
The committee which conferred with the 
Training School committee was unable to 
agree witli them, so each school had inde- 
pendent Held days and teams. 

This year it was again learned that they 
desired to join with us in athletics. How- 
ever, nothing was said about the matter in 
our Association, as last year we had been 
the ones to take the initiative, and had 
been coarsely treated by the I. T. S. The 
I. T. S. selected Mr. Kerr to represent 

them, and this gentleman appeared before 
the I. H. S. Association. He came with 
the suggestion that the two schools unite 
and form a good baseball team. His terms 
were, that the I. H. S. have the manager 
and the I. T. S. the captain of the team, 
each school to be responsible for one-half 
the expenpes, and if there was any super- 
fluous cash on hand at the end of the sea- 
son it was to be equally divided between 
the two Associations. As these were the 
terms upon which the I. H. S. had tried to 
unite the two schools one year before, we 
accepted them. Elmer Eckhouse was 
elected manager from the I. H. S. 

1)1 looking over the material at hand, it 
was found that very few of the old pla3ers 
were in school, and among the new men 
there were no "phenoms." Baseball at I. 
H. S. for '98 seemed a failure. But I. T. 
S., our "ancient rivals," found themselves 
in much the same condition, so a consoli- 
dation of the two teams was very benefi- 
cial to both schoo's. 

Players from both schools reported for 
preliminary practice, and after vigorous 
work for several days, Talbot, Anthony, 
Bosler, Bell and Kelly, from H. S., and 
Kerr, Bronson, Quizzer, Whittridge and 
Young of the T. S. were selected for the 
team. Kerr, of the T. S., was elected captain. 

The tirst game was at DePauw Univer- 
sity, where we were defeated by the score 
of 5 to 4. Then we played the Outings, 
the strongest team of semi-professional 
players in this city. Rain stopped the 
game in the eighth inning — score, Outings, 
3; I. H. S. 3., They next met the Rivals 
and overwhelmingly defeated them by the 
score of 11 to 1. All the games yet played 
have been characterized by the terrific bat- 
ting and brilliant fielding of the I. H. S. 

The union has been a good one for all 
parties concerned, and we hope the day is 
not distant when we can have joint bicycle 
meets and field days. T. Y. K. 



President, Herbert Bosler. 
Secretary, Maurice Shearer. 

Vice-President, Merrill Talbot. 
Treasurer, Prof. J. C. Trent. 

Manager Football Team, Maurice Shearer. Manager Baseball Team, Elmer Eckhouse. 
Clyde H. Lowry, 

constitutional committee : 
Harvey Crossland, 

Jim Davis. 

H. BozLEK Left End. 

M. Talbot Right End. 

O. Kettenback Left Tackle. 

M. Shearer Eight Tackle. 

Obie Smith Left Guard. 

Elmer Jordan Right Guard. 

Ed. Hohn Center Rush. 

E. Bell Right Half-back. 

S. EcKMAN Left Half-back. 

B. Coffin Quarter-back. 

L. Green Full-back. 


SHE I. H. S. put forth the best team 
this season that has represented it 
for several terms. The team v^^as 
light, and this handicapped it somewhat. 

It w^as captained all season by Herbert 
Bosler. The team was coached by Prof. 
LaMay. He " brought out " the team from 
a disorganized mass to a very " elective 
unit." The team work was all that could 
be desired, speed being its great sti'ength. 

Its first game was against the Cincinnati 
High School. The day was hot and sul- 
try, and was a very disagreeable one on 
which to play football. We were defeated 
by a score of 8 to 4. We made our touch- 
down in three minutes after the game 
commenced. The C. H. S. defeated us by 
relay work. In all, they played twenty- 
two men against us during the whole 
game. They failed to secure a touchdown 
in the first half, and played a fresh set of 
men against us in the second half. We 
soon lost the ball on downs and after that 
we never " saw the ball again." 

We arranged to play a game with a 
team of Plainfield High School students. 
When we went to Plainfield the team we 
played against had four '■'■school boys'' (?) 
with mustaches, and one with a full beard. 
During the game, a young boy about nine 
years old came up to hira and said, " papa, 
mamma wants to know where you put 
that fifty cents you left for her." We de- 
feated them by a score of 4 to 0. 

We then played Franklin, and succeeded 
in defeating them by a gcore of 8 to 0. 
This school defVated the I. T. S. on the fol- 
lowing Saturday by a score of 4 to 0. 
Thus we can claim to be superior to the I. 
T. S. in football, as we defeated a team 
that defeated them. T. V. K. 




ON Saturday, March 26, delegates rep- 
resenting the Athletic Associations 
of the Richmond, Portland, South 
Bend, Madison and Indianapolis High 
Schools met in the Richmond High School 
to discuss the advantages and the possi- 
bility of the formation of an Inter-High- 
Schoolastic Athletic Association. The 
delegates unanimously favored the for- 
mation of such an association, and pledged 
the CO operation and support of their re- 
spective schools to the furtherance of the 

It w^as decided to open a correspondence 
with the various High Schools throughout 
central Indiana, stating the purposes and 
advantages of such an organization and so- 
liciting their co-operation. It was also de- 
cided that a meeting should be held in 
Indianapolis some time during the summer, 
to organize the association formally. 

C. L. 

FIELD DAY, '98. 

YES ! We are going to have a field day 
this year — that is an assured fact. The 
merchants and our friends have been 
very liberal in donating a set of very de- 
sirable prizes. The boys have all " toed the 
mark" and entered our events. Ever since 
the " noted kickers " of the February, '98, 
class have signified their intention of enter- 
ing the kicking events, we have been hav- 
ing trouble getting entries for this event. 
At the earnest request of a large number 
of the students, a faculty race will be given. 
It is said that Dotey's wife refuses to allow 
"Alkali Ike" to enter this event. Prof. 
Trent's solid geometry class issued a loud 
sounding challenge to any class in the 
school for a " tug of war." The challenge 

had not been ten minutes old, before it was 
accepted by Prof. Benton and his advance 
chemistry class. This is a new departure 
for a field day and we are sure it will be 
amusing. There will be bicycle races ga- 
lore. Our school has many " fast " riders 
in it and we are sure that these events will 
be first-class and that the time will be good. 
The following is the program of events 
for the '98 Field Day : 


Faculty race, 1-mile bicycle. 


100 yard dash. 


Putting 12- pound shot. 


Standing high jump. 


One-mile bicycle. 


Three-legged race. 


IGO-yard dash. Freshmen and sophomores. 


Two-mile bicycle, handicap. 


Standing broad jump. 


440-yard dash. 


Tug of war. 


Running high jump. 


One-mile run. 


One-mile bicycle. Freshmen and sophomores 


100-yard hurdle race. 


Throwing 12-pound hammer. 


Eunning broad jump. 


Hop, step and jump. 


One-mile tandem race. 


One-mile walk. 

T. V. K. 













fj^Q.Jws J^m 




Why Deacon laughs? 

How old Dan Sheparcl is? 

Why Eckhouse is so modest ? 

Why Bondy " stagged " the 11th? 

If ISTora Taggart " really knows ?" 

If Abie will ever translate the Bible? 

Of what consequence is Waite Colgan ? 

What gave Bernie Cohen the swell head? 

If "Nan" is anything other than a myth? 

If Helen Werbe knows where she is " at?" 

How much work Share did for the Annual? 

What the young ladies really think of Dotey? 

If Merrill Talbott is really as warm as he looks? 

If Bowers has ever experienced a woman's wiles ? 

If the school can exist when the '98 boys leave it? 

When Will Stokes will ever come out of the dark? 

If Clyde Lowry imagines that he is a "lady killer?" 

Why Hibben intends to take a P. G. course next year? 

If Dotey thinks he will ever be Principal of the I. H. S.? 

If the " Good Book" justifies Tom Sims' political methods? 


How many double faced people there are in the June Class? 

Why Mauiitell does not hire himself out as a clothes horse? 

If Flora Logan was the slow match that blew up the Maine ? 

If Keene ever was in love with any one other than himself? 

If Miss Platter enjoys the drama only " from lofty heights?" 

Why Florence Dunning looks so happy in the class picture? 

In the same connection, why does Jesse Wall look so self-satisfied? 

If Myla Closser intends to be a "bachelor maiden" all her life? 

What Mrs. Carey thinks of herself as " a definition of beauty ?" 

How Obie Smith knows so much about the Parisian "grisette?" 

Why Daisy Metzler was so popular at Richmond? 

What method Dotey, Trent and Taylor suggest to promote harmony in the family? 

Why such a light thing as a dress suit case could tire a stout fellow like Newcomb ? 

If " Maud" Shearer would ever have gotten a diploma if he had not gone into the 
army ? 

If there really were twelve perfect gentlemen with the I. H. S. delegation at Rich- 

What Hibben meant when he said, " I can keep anything out of the Annual that I 
please ?" 

Why Newcomb played " A Hot Time in the Old Town" with the Mandolin Club 
at Richmond ? 

If the reason that Bert Houser did not get into the army was because he had " an 
afiliction of the lieart?" 



" The Secret of Authority " — With a list of negative illustrations. Geo.W. Huftord. 
" How to be a Genius " — A text-book for use in my classes. Charity Dye. 
" Concerning Myself." Geo. W. Benton. 
" Modesty as a Virtue." JSTewland. 

"Lip Gardens, or How to Raise a Moustache" — A poem. Lynn McMullen. 
" My Definition of Beauty." Mrs. Carey. 

" The Theater as Viewed from Lofty Heights." Miss Platter. 
"Preoccupation or Mind Studies, Before and After Marriage." John LaMay. 
" Manly Beauty, and How to Cultivate It " — Witli a chapter on dancing as a grace- 
ful art. C. Mauntel. 

" Neat Untidiness, or How to be Rustic." John Higdon. 
" Personal Popularity." Laura Donnan. 



Motto ; 'Better to be curised than mentioned not at all.* 




" He is his own star." 
Mrs. Huff or d: 

" My little body is aweary of this world." 
Miss Rankin : 

"A dream, a dream, a beautiful dream." 
Mr. Trent: 

" With stupidest boys, he was kind and cool." 
Mr. Newland: 

" There are three things that I have always loved and never understood — paint- 
ing, music and women." 
Mrs. Carey: 

" She is talking aesthetics, the dear, clever creature! Her ideas are divine upon 
Art, upon N"ature, the Sublime, the Heroic, and Mr. Carlyle !" 
Mr. Martin: 

" He kept himself as the apple of his eye." 


Mr. McMullen: 

" Your face is as a book, where one may read strange thoughts." 
Miss Donnan : 

" Plain as a pike staff." 
Miss Dye : 

" Age can not witlier her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."' 
Mr. Mauntd: 

" It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright." 

" I am not made like any of those I have seen." 
Brodie Jeyikins: 

" Coy, demure, simple and sweet — such was he." 
Mr. Dotey: 

" The time I've lost in wooing. 
In watching and pursuing 

The light that lies in woman's eyes 
Has been my heart's undoing. 
Though wisdom oft has sought me, 
I scorned the lore she brought me, 

M}' only books were woman's looks. 
And folly 's all she taught me.'' 



Martha Allerdice : 

" So wise, so young." 
Will Seibert : 

"A great sized monster." 
Mupert Spohr : 

" Presumption is our natural and original disease." 
Sara Messing : 

"Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence." 
Juliet Brown : 

" With look demure as any saint. 
And ne'er a sign of rouge or paint." 
Margaret McCulloch : 

" Fair as a summer dream was Margaret." 
Abie Cronbach: 

" Eemote, unfriended, melancholy, slow." 
George Langsdale : 

" Come, boys ! be old and wise with me." 


Ed. Hohn : 

" I'm no fool myself." 
Chiude Bowers : 

" Bring the gentleman a chair." 
Edna Kuhn: 

" Coquettes are the quacks of love." 
Florence Dunning : 

" Sweet as remembered kisses." 
Otto Kettenbach : 

" Yet man is born into trouble." 
Jules ISelig : 

"Verily, man in his best estate is altogether vanity." 
Victor Keene : 

" I am nothing if not a diplomat." 
Jesse Wall: 

" Me too-o-o-o-o-o-o ! ! ! ! " 


hibhen : 

Cuba Reagan . 

" She bears a sunbeam light and warmth about her." 
J. Ray Newcomb : 

"Evil manners soil a full dress more than mud." 
6r. Sines Share : 

" Brain him with a lady's fan." 
Frank Hasselnian : 

" He only lacked some vices to be perfect." 
Maurice Shearer : 

" Remove not this ancient landmark." 
Margaret Allen: 

" She has a sweet, attractive kind of grace." 
Charlie Ripley : 

" Many a meandering discourse one hears there ; in which he aims at nothing 
and hits it." 
Attia Malott: 

" 'Tis better to be a kitten and cry mew, 
Than one of these amateur opera singers." 
Anna Hess : 

" A love that took an early root 
And had an early doom." 
Flora Logan : 

" Drink to me only w^ith thine eyes." 
Harold Jones : 

" A silly laugh is the silliest thing I know." 


Fannie White: 

" Soft as ail unfledged birdling in its nest." 
Clyde Lowry : 

" What a want-wit girls do make of me." 
Herbert Bosler : 

" I am as God made me, and oftentimes a good deal worse." 
Ebner Eckhouse : 

"Hear you this Triton of minnows?" 
Stella Tiitewiler : 

" None but herself can be her parallel." 
Eleanor Minor : 

"Is she not more than paintings can express, 
Or youthful poets' fancy when they please? " 
Obie Smith : 

" How much a dunce that has been sent to roam 
Excels a dunce that has been kept at home." 
Jane Ketcham: 

" Fall back upon a name 1 rest, rot in that ! ! " 
Charlie Wilson : 

" There was a little man, and he had a little soul." 
Frank McGee : 

"A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing." 
Charles Leppert : 

" He talks as familiarly of roaring lions 
As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs." 
Fred Beck : 

" I was a coward on instinct." 



Bernie Cohen: 

" I am creation's masterpiece; but who says so — I." 
Bert Houser : 

" He will be awful nice when he gets older." 
John Craig: 

" Give him time." 
Gertrude Talbott: 

" Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye ; 
In every gesture, dignity and love." 
Jim lorrence: 

" 0, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful, wonderful, and j^et again won- 
derful ; and after that out of all Avhooping." 
Fletcher Wagner: 

" Past all shame, so past all truth." 


Beth Driggs: 

" Come to me dear, ere I die of my sorrow ; 
Come, for my heart in your absence is breaking." 
Harvey Crossland : 

"Let not thy hair be out of order." 
Dan Shepard : 

" Can there any good things come out of him? " 
Max Graves: 

" He is enough to make a parson swear, or a Quaker to kick his mother." 
Walter Bond : 

" I am not in the roll of common men." 
Tom Sims: 

" He was a scholar exceeding wise, (?) 
Lofty and sour to them who he loved not 
But to those who sought him, sweet as summer." 
Charles Pettijohn : ' .^ 

"Eternal grins his emptiness betray, 
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way." 
Victor Brandov : 

" Too early seen unknown, and known too late." 
Helen Werbe : 

"Learn to hold thy tongue. Five words cost Zacharias fort}' weeks' silence." 
Waite Colgan : 

"An excellent scholar! One that hath a head tilled with calves' brains without 
any sage in it." 
Joe Hall: 

"Oh, why did God create at last this novelty on earth, this fair defect?" 
Ethel Smith : 

"To those who know thee not, no words can paint; 
To those who know thee, know all words are faint." 
Warren Manchester : 

" Art thou a thing of mortal birth, 
Whose happy home is on this earth ? " 
A lexis Many : 

" Would he were fatter." 
Marguerite Bugbee: 

" O, sir, I must not tell my age. 
They say women and music should never be dated." 
Jim Nima.l : 

" O, hell ! what have we here? " 
Major Downing : 

" When he shall die, 
Take him and cut him out in little stars. 
And he will make the face of heaven so fine 
That all tlie world will be in love with night 
And pay no worship to the garish day." 


Daisy Porter : 

" Hair, such a wonder of liix and floss." 
Julia Hobbs : 

" She was meant for heaven, not earth." 
Myla Clnsser : 

" Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud. 
In the calm light of mild philosophy." 
Chandler Watson : 

" I knew a maiden fair to see. 
Take care. 
She could both false and friendly be, 
Beware, beware ! " 
Arnold Spencer : 

" He had all the virtues with which hell is tilled." 
Jolm Chenaweth: 

" Implores the passing tribute of a sigh." 
Brandon, Wagner, Nimal et al. : 

" All these men have their price." 
Comet Subscribers : 

" Base is the slave that pays." 
The Senate: 

" What this Senate longs for, is personalities." 
The Annual: 

" Soc et tuura." 



If Newcomb and A. Spencer had been killed in a wreck while returning from 
Eichmond, what result would a chemical analysis of their stomachs have given? 

How would FWS act if precipitated or " thrown down " by MJC ? 

Distinguish between spongy platinum and Charlie Ripley's head. 

Give analysis of Miss Donnan's cough medicine. Would it be healthy to give it to 
a mule? Why not? 


The muzzle velocity of a Krag-Jorgensen rifle ball is 2,800 feet per second. If tired 
at a distance of ten yards, why would it not enter Jim Torrence's head ? 

The attraction of the earth for an empty dress suit case is equal to three pounds; 
for a dress suit, two pounds; when the case is packed the earth exerts a pull of 
thirty-three pounds. Query: What's in the case ? 




0. Smith and his loving constituents. 


Members — Hibben-Werbe (3), O. Smith- White, Crossland-E. Smith. 

Motto: "In my niind's cy< ," 

Members — Anna Hess, Florence Dunning, Mary Griffin, and others. 


Members — Wagner, Colgan, Brandon, Manchester. Purpose — To discuss ways and. 
and. means of getting office in the Senate. 

L O. L. S. P.* 

Chief Pilot, Maurice Shearer; Assistant Chief Pilot, Arnold Spencer; Pilot, Her- 
bert Bosler. 


Members — Keene and Langsdale. 


Members — Dotey, Trent and Taylor. 


Members — Jackson, Olsen, McAbee, Lowry. 


(Applied for, by Annual editors.) 

The " Eekliouse.'" — A self-inflating gas bag. 

The " Newcomb." — A new lightning disappearing Latin pony. 

The " Shearer." — An elastic, unleakable tank, suitable for holding any sort of liquid. 

The "Colgan." — A voting machine, warranted to count ballots in a manner satis- 
factory to the owner. 

The " Bosler." — A night key, guaranteed not to wake " the old man." Just the 
thing for warm young gentlemen. 

The " Lowry Blue Book." — A book of 698 pages, containing the names of a few 
of the girls he knows. An invaluable reference work for those who desire to extend 
their acquaintance among the fair sex. 

■■•Independent Order Licensed Schooner Pilots. 

©fficers jfebruari? Class, '98. 

Claude Bowers, 


Maroabet McCulloch, 


Jesse Wall, 


Florence Dunning, 


Martha. Allerdice, 


Sara Messing, Andrea Ferguson, 

Prophet. Poet. 


'Enoiigh, if something from, our hands have power, 
To live, mid act, and serve the 'present hour. 

jflower, IRarcissus. 


Colors, l^ellow ant> Mbite. 

Class IRolI. 

Martha S. Allerdice. 
Grace D. Berry. 
Claude G. Bowers. 
Ida Sayles Braddock. 
.Juliet R. Brown. 
Gertrude Caylor. 
Minnie Churchill. 
May Lillian Coots. 
L. Ada Craig. 
Abraham Cronbach. 
Edith Banner. 
William S. Duckwall. 
Florence Lillian Dunning 
Samuel W. Eckman. 
Andrea Ferguson. 
Kathleen Faith Ferguson. 
Estella C. Fox. 
Lorin A. Green. 
Lilyan Habich. 
Daisy Algier Hale. 

Mary A. Hastings. 
Edward Hohn. 
Gertrude M. Howard. 
Thomas Victor Keene. 
Otto I. Kettenbach. 
Huldah T. L. Kottlowski. 
Edna Matilda Kuhn. 
George J. Langsdale, Jr. 
Margaret McCulloch. 
Sara Messing. 
Virginia M. Rutledge. 
William Geo. Seibert. 
Estelle K. Selig. 
Jules Selig. 
Eupert C. Spoil r. 
Edna Agnes Sweeney. 
Flora Anna Victor. 
Jesse D. Wall. 
Grace Eleanora Watson. 
Lulu Bessie Wilson. 



OURS was always a class of modest pro- 
fessions. No blare of trumpets, 
brassy and loud, heralded our sway 
through the history of High School life. 
Dignity was the chief ingredient of our 
nature. We were content to do things in 
a great way, great as measured by our 
success. The constant aim of our endeavor 
was great success, and the reward of per- 
severance was repeated victory. Greatness 
with modesty, triumph with magnanimity, 
might well be the criterion of our char- 

To begin with, as I say, we were modest. 
From the time when we were organized as 
lOA's in Mr. King's room, that reputation 
became enlarged to such an extent in the 
minds of some desperate idiots, of which 
there were many around us, that for a 
while, we were the butt of considerable 
ridicule. At first, we admit, class spirit of 
the kind that bustles around with a grand- 
iloquent swell and makes itself obnoxiously 
prominent, was not the predominating ele- 
ment of our life. But as Emerson says : 
" To be great is to be misunderstood," and 
so we continued in our calm, quiet, pleasant 
way, adhering to the inspired poet's reve- 
lation of Nature's law that 

" The heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, 
Is always the first to be touched by the thorns." 

Quality, not quantity, concise energy, 
not expansive bombast, was our desire — 
qualities which came only with time, and 
these qualities we made our specialty of 
cultivation. So we worked on, meanwhile 
witnessing some of the methods of the 
preceding class which admonished caution 
unto us, and bid us see to it that our ord- 
nance was thoroughly primed and loaded 
before we started on a hunt for big game. 

When we did finally start, we were out 
for blood, and after a long succession of 

triumphs, we commanded acknowledgment 
of our true worth and grandeur. In this 
progress was exhibited such taste, good 
sense, and energy among the class mem- 
bers, that when one of the boys appeared 
with his fluttering yellow and white rib- 
bons, exclamations spontaneously burst 
forth : " Behold ! The man ! " This spirit 
manifested itself in striking ways. Most 
striking and lasting of evidences was our 
class pin, " a rainbow of the loveliest hue," 
selected while we were in Mrs. Carey's 
room. When June, '97, members saw it, 
they were amazed at its resplendent 
beauty. This was one triumph ; a pin of 
true beauty, taste and meaning, and one 
which we think will not soon be equaled. 

Our reception to the graduating class of 
'97, given in company with June, '98, also, 
by its success, bore testimony of our class 

" Gray matter" was also a quality by no 
means lacking in our class, and "gray 
matter" is a pretty good thing to have, 
you know. Illustrative of this is the fact 
that two representatives of the February 
class were chosen from among eight con- 
testants — the rest being '97 classmen — to 
represent the I. H. S. in its joint debate 
with the I. T. S. 

The Puritan Supper, with ita now fa- 
mous story, was but a bursting forth of the 
matured energies of the class. Here again 
we surpassed all predecessors, clearing 
twice as much money, having thrice as 
much fun, and every member, actively par- 
taking, feeling far more satisfied. 

Then last, the climax of glory, was the 
class day, full of regular college enthusi- 
asm, abounding in witty, though not 
overmelodious songs. 

Thus, briefly, and prosaically, is presented 
the gist of our class life. We hope that it 
will be seen that our class possessed those 
qualities of modesty, sociability, taste, en- 
ergy and intelligence which are commend- 



able to all, and that it will be granted that 
these qualities were manifested in such a 
spirit as to be agreeably noticeable to all 
with whom we came in contact, our teach- 
ers and our fellow-schoolmates alike. 

Class Historian. 


My Dear Alma Mater : 

IN my travels around the world, I have 
had occasion to witness objects of sur- 
passing interest. But. in dear, old, in- 
spiring, romantic Greece, where the shades 
of gods and goddesses seem yet to walk upon 
the earth, amid the last remains of a civil- 
ization whose history is indelibly imprinted 
on the character of man, I found the most 
wonderful thing of all. 

You, of course, have read of the Del- 
phian Oracle, of the yawning fissure in the 
earth, heaving fumes from the mysterious 
regions of Tartarus, and of the priestess 
standing in rapt mood, to receive what 
message the Fates would give concerning 
the destiny of man. Just as in times of 
old the oraele responds, but only to the 
chosen few. This place I visited, and 
found myself among the sacred num- 
ber. As I stood near the fissure, I said : 

" What, Mystery, is the destiny of 
those whose lives I must foretell?" 

Instantly a column of smoke and steam 
and fumes arose, enlightened by sparks 
supernatural, and out of the darkness a 
voice made answer : 

Into the future twenty years I look. 

Victor Keene still continaes his old voca- 
tion of cultivating a Bug(by) house. He 
is very attentive to his " business," and 
says that as aids to his success he has 
found nothing equal to " rainbow socks," 
a mandolin and a dress suit. In addition 

to his regular establishment he runs a 
junk shop, where he has a large stock of 
"brass" at reasonable rates. 

Grace Watson is the leading " danseuse " 
of the Parisian opera. All Paris is in 
raptures over her exquisite dancing. This 
is no wonder, for you remember that 
Grace always did take to dancing, like a 
"Duck" to the water. 

Claude Bowers is an anarchist; venom 
dripping from his tongue, fire flashing from 
his eye, a torch in one hand, a bomb in the 
other, this monster impatiently awaits the 
time when the universe will be shattered 
and he alone remains of all mortals. But 
let him beware lest he " hoist himself with 
his own petard " to heights or depths be- 
yond redemption. 

Margaret McCulloch is in the ice and 
cold storage business, and is known as the 
" Ice Queen." The thermometer has been 
known to drop 60° and hide within itself 
when she approached. However, they say 
she is quite handy to have around on a hot 

Florence Dunning, bless her dear sweet 
eoul, has taken quite a rise in the world. 
She is engaged in a large New York mil- 
linery and dressmaking establishment, 
where she poses in costly hats and gowns 
before the elite of New York society. 
Only ladies of the most refined manners 
and bearing are engaged for this work, 
and her success in it is quite a compliment 
to her good taste, looks and training, of 
which she used to be so proud. And above 
all she has succeeded in winning the heart 
of a man of one of the oldest families in 
New York, and hopes in a short time to 
have her engagement announced. She 
welcomes all Newcom(b)ei's, and will un- 
doubtedly win the prize as the " most pop- 
ular " bride of New York. 

Edna Kuhn is a staunch old maid of 
Indianapolis, and gives bi-weekly bowling 
parties at the Walhalla to her old suitors. 


Abie Croubach, author of "Advice to the 
Young/' has grown quite patriarclial in 
appearance. He is engaged in the final 
analysis of the Apocalypse, which is ex- 
pected to be the true revelation of the des- 
tiny of Man. As a recreation from this 
task he occupies himself with delivering a 
series of lectures on the subject : " Who 
Made the Devil, Man or God?" 

Poor Bessie Wilson, as you know, turned 
Black eighteen years ago. Although quite 
a curiosity, she has refused several tempt- 
ing offers to join a museum. Lately an 
effort has been made to get the medical 
fraternity interested in her case. 

Jesse Wall, after gaining quite a reputa- 
tion as the " perpetual candidate," has re- 
tired from politics and is now exhibiting 
himself with tremendous success as the 
only living rival of Joe Joe, the dog-faced 

Ilulda Kottlowski is devoting herself to 
the task of simplifying the spelling of 
proper names. She has shown that she 
knows her business, by beginning with her 
own name. 

Otto Kettenbach, until two years ago, 
was still engaged in the lucrative practice 
of "working the old man." He is now a 
policeman, and is the most efficient man on 
the force in keeping minors out of gam- 
bling dens and pool rooms. 

Lorin Greene is the prizefighter, wrestler 
and all-round athlete, who gained a world- 
wide notoriety by his challenge of " Kid" 
McCoy, the world's champion for ten years. 
Finnegan, as I said, is known as a prize- 
fighter and wrestler, but recently he sprained 
his arm while helping to lift the schooner 
Budweiser over a bar, and so far as bona fide 
facts are in evidence, " high balls " are the 
only thing he has ever succeeded in throw- 
ing down. 

Will Seibert married a " strawberry 
blond," and now his whole passion runs to 
strawberries. He owns a great strawberry 

patch, and eats strawberries in one form or 
another three times a day. 

Ida Braddock is trying to let the world 
know that she is alive. 

Rupert Spohr sings. His voice has 
attracted the attention of musicians the 
world over, for there is no other like it in ex- 
istence. It has a peculiar, strident, brassy 
sound and can be heard for miles. Some 
authorities say that he undoubtedly swal- 
lowed the brass spoon which the Fates 
placed in his mouth at birth, while others 
contend that there must be a trombone, 
with steam calliope attachments, down his 
throat. However, through all this conten- 
tion, " Rube " smiles as extensively as ever, 
and devotes his spare time to preparing 
himself fon the occupancy of some politi- 
cal office, whenever one hundred office- 
holders shall all die on the same day and 
the people feel that they are in absolute 
need of his services. He is very modest, 
and will positively not acoept office under 
any other condition. He scorns to ask for 

Flora Victor is still looking for a hus- 
band. The one who would be her " man " 
must come up to a standard laid down in 
ten certain requisites. These are known 
only to herself. I will only dare to say that a 
desire on his part to lavishly expend money 
on her is of great preponderance. He must 
also be twenty-one years old, and, to quote 
her own words, have a " nice little mus- 
tache." Flora always prided herself on 
the fact that she never went with any other 
sort of a fellow, and in her endeavor to 
attain this object she has made and broken 
engagements innumerable. I prophecy 
final success. 

Kathleen and Andrea Ferguson, some- 
times known as the " Gemini Twins," are 
Sisters of Mercy, and enlighten a wide arc 
of happiness by their tender ministrations. 

Juliet Brown is a bachelor maiden. 
Sometimes, when not otherwise engaged. 




she assists Martha Allerdice iu her A+ 
schooL Martha will not tolerate pupils 
who do not get A+ every time, and Juliet, 
remembering her own struggles in that 
line, always sneaks an A+ credit to a pupil 
whenever possible. It would seem that 
the A+ reputation ot the school is largely 
due to Juliet's kind heart. Lilyan Habich, 
however, is not so lenient in her marks in 

George Langsdale is a preacher. He is 
sometimes known as the " cussing parson." 

He is perfectly liberal in his doctrines and 
has an idea that a man, who behaves him- 
self in a kind, merciful and just manner 
towards his fellowmeu, will enter the king- 
dom of heaven. He is a true disciple of 
his doctrines, and enjoys life freely and 
easily, and does his best to make others do 

Then the cloud grew dim, and as the 
voice retreated it muttered, Tiiou, tliou, vain 
prophetess, are cursed to the damned. 

" Class Prophet." 

June Class ©fficers. 

^ ^ 

Mabgarbt Donnan, 

Vk-e-President . 

Adella Chambers, 


Obie J. Smith, 


Edna Lane, 


Stella Tutewiler, 



" Look forward, persevering to the last, 
From loell to better, dailij self-><urpast." 

Fred Beck, 


Florence Morrison, 


iflower, pansv^ 

Colors, Icllow, Mbite an& purple. 


. . . Class IRoll . . . 

Chas. Adams. 
Frances Adams. 
Margaret Allen. 
Jessie Anderson. 
Clara Armstrong. 
Leo AxtelJ. 
Elliott Ayres. 
Grace Baird. 
William Baird. 
Fred Beck. 
Herbert Bosler. 
Margaret Brooks. 
Adella Chambers. 
Anna Chandler. 
Loula Coates. 
Mabel Cook. 
Margaret Cookson. 
Grace Cowan. 
Eunice Curtis. 
Ursula Daggett. 
Berenice Davis. 
Anna Dean. 
Elizabeth Defrees. 
Hazel Dietz. 
Margaret Donnan. 
Louise Dryer. 
Adelaide Duncan. 
Elmer Eckhonse. 
Mary Egan. 

Samuel Elbert. 
Delbert Funkhouser. 
Grace Geisel. 
Martha Hale. 
Joseijhine Hall. 
Avis Hargraves. 
Frank Hasselman. 
Daisy Herdman. 
Anna Hess. 
Rosa Heston. 
Paxton Hibben. 
Anna Hogan. 
Harold Jones. 
Florence Kahn. 
May Kellogg. 
Gertrude Kelly. 
Violet Kelvie. 
Louise Kendall. 
Jane Ketcham. 
Amy Kothe. 
Dora Kryter. 
Edna Lane. 
Florence Liebert. 
Wm. Lilly. 
Flora Logan. 
Clyde Lowry. 
Dan McAbee. 
Janie McDermott. 
Josephine McDowell. 

Amy McMillan. 
Alexis Many. 
Nina Maytield. 
Gertrude Miller. 
Maud Miller. 
Pearl Miller. 
Marguerite Miner. 
Eleanor Minor. 
Nettie Mitchell. 
Florence Morrison, 
Leland Mothershead. 
Fawn Murbarger. 
Ray Newcomb. 
Louie Niccum. 
Frieda Noelke. 
Charlotte Nowland. 
Pearl Patterson. 
Bertha Peck. 
Emma Pingpank. 
Florence Plum. 
Mary Porterfield. 
Anna Reade. 
Cuba Reagan. 
Alice Reed. 
Fred Reid. 
Chas. Ripley. 
Edith Robinson. 
Roy Ross. 

Franklin Rude. 
Estella Ryan. 
Winifred Ryan. 
Emma Schmidt. 
May Sellers. 
Hines Share. 
Maurice Shearer. 
Florence iSkinner. 
Leora Smith. 
Obie Smith. 
Rose Solomon. 
Belle Somerville. 
Mary Stone. 
Mary Stubbs. 
Golie Stucker. 
Bertha Sweeney. 
Letitia Thuemmler. 
Merrill Talbot. 
Ross Thomas. 
Inez Thurston. 
Stella Tutewiler. 
Blanche Weakly. 
Fannie White. 
Mabel Whitenack. 
Emma Whitsit. 
Estella Willis. 
Chas. Wilson. 
Edward Wright. 




1 I AE are a large and powei'ful tribe, 
\XJ who have been tyrannized over by 
the eklers, envied by tlie inferior 
forces, and fairly admired by ourselves. 

About eighteen inouns ago, we assembled 
and decided to become a separate band 
among the children of Fame. We soon 
were conspicuous for our war paint of yel- 
low, purple and white, and garlands of pur- 
ple pansies, symbol of sublime "thoughts." 
Civilization crept upon us unawares, and 
with it came books and the art of printing. 
We set out to publish a " Dawn," as we 
called it, and for distinction, gave it the 
name of Walter Scott, whose poems we 
had received. This we traded to the 
settlers at the ranch, and the wampum we 
exchanged for a picture of the Jossakeeds, 
which we placed in our wigwam. Then 
the warriors of our tribe printed the " Si- 
lent Spectator," and later issued the " Ish- 
koodah " or " Comet." 

When the Indian corn was first leaving 
its dungeon of darkness, Ahkosewin, the 
fever, beckoned our chief to the Happy 
Hunting Ground, as he thought the mas- 
tery of our band impossible. Summoning 
our messengers, the -Flowers, we sent them, 
together with the Medicine Men, to our 
wavering leader. With their aid, he gained 
strength to resist the allurements of this 
Evil Spirit and again turned his attention 
to his solicitous family. 

Gheezis' beams had warmed the earth 
and the Moon of Leaves had risen, when 
our active tribe smoked the pipe of peace 
wnth the Febs., and with them bade fare- 
well to our departing kindred, the '97's, 
who were just about to leave the native 
reservation and scale the hdl of Renown 
rising at their feet. We had a delightful 
campfire, and the war paint of the three 
clans was used effectively. The squaws 

prepared delicate and refreshing viands^ 
and with mingled joy and sorrow the '97's 

When the maize was gathered in, we 
again joined our forces with the Feljs. 
under the Moon of Snow Shoes. From 
our civilized neighbors we had learned of 
the pilgrims who first settled in our coun- 
try and gradually drove our race toward 
the land of the Setting Sun ; of the puritj^ 
of their lives and their devotion to the 
church. The day of Thanksgiving drew 
near, and in memory of tho^e devoted Puri- 
tans, and in thankfulness for our abundant 
harvest, we assembled on the prairie to 
celebrate. We had a noble feast, which 
the squaws prepared, and later a mimic 
war dance. Multitudes flocked to the 
scene and all joined in the spirit of fes- 

While the snows still covered the mounds 
of our departed, the braves brought forth 
the calumet, and by the wigwam Propy- 
leeum had a grand and gorgeou